


Bonds of Blood, Bonds of Family, Bonds of Love

by TyReed



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Claudia Stilinski, Alive Hale Family, Alive Laura Hale, Background Relationship: Allison/Lydia, Background Relationship: Boyd/Erica, Background Relationship: Isaac/Scott/Jackson, Derek Hale is a Good Alpha, Everyone Is Alive, Everyone is a Werewolf, F/F, Happy Ending, M/M, Mating Bond, Mild mentions of mpreg, Multi, Nerdy!Werewolf!StilesStilinksi, Sexual Intercourse, Soulmates, Werewolf Classism, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski, a/b/o dynamics, courting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 00:59:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 44,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4686236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyReed/pseuds/TyReed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being beaten up by a door, werewolf Stiles Stilinksi finds himself bonded to Derek Hale, of the Hale Noble Bloodline.  For a scrawny, wimpy, Tainted Bloodline werewolf, Stiles runs away, embarrassed and humiliated as he worries about bringing shame to the Hale Family, and even more shame to himself.  Because the Nobles and Tainted just don't mix, never have, never will.</p><p>Except, things aren't exactly what they seem.  </p><p>With the help of the (meddling) Hale family, his adoptive (meddling) human parents John and Claudia Stilinksi, and one very persistent Alpha Derek Hale, Stiles might come to see himself as more than just the blood that runs through his veins, and open his heart to find the happiness, friends, pack, and the family that he'd always wanted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_"Senior Bonding JUST started, and have you already heard about all the pairs?"_

_"Seriously!  Lydia Martin and Allison Argent?  I knew they were close, but damn if I wouldn't kill to be a fly on that wall!"_

_"Fuck that!  McCall, Whittemore, and Lahey bonded together on Wednesday!"_

_"Get the fuck out, a polybond?"_

_"Heard that Finstock had to break them apart before they started fucking in the locker room, AND take them to McCall's place for their bonding week!  They're all in the Hale Pack, though, so I doubt it'll be an issue"_

_"Speaking of the Hale Pack...  Did either of the Hale Twins bond yet?"_

_"Laura did with some guy on the debate team, I think Derek's still waiting."_

_"Lucky bastard, whoever lands Derek.  He's such a sweetie-cakes...  I'd like a slice of that beefcake any day!"_

_"Oooh!  Please tell me that Yukimura's still on the table!  I'd love to have a shot at bonding with her!"_

 

From the safety behind his locker, Senior Stiles Stilinski glanced back at the few people still actually attending school.  While those in the 9th to 11th grade were all crowding up their hallways, the Senior Class had an exceptionally low turnout.

The gaggle of Seniors had been talking about Senior Bonding.  For those of the werewolf species, meaning everyone attending Beacon Hills High School like Stiles, Senior Bonding was an event that happened for the entire month of September.  A time where the now sexually-mature 18-year-old werewolves would find their soulmate, and bond through copious amounts of sex, cheesy mating dates, and family dinners to discuss potential pack mergers.

Stiles smiled, hearing a few familiar names.  Scott McCall was a nice guy, and had been Stiles' lab partner in Chemistry back in the eleventh grade.  Isaac Lahey was a cool kid he'd been partnered with in Family and Consumer Sciences, where they took care of a baby for a whole month.  Lydia Martin and Allison Argent were the Queen Bees of the school, and very kind to everyone they met, even to someone as low as Stiles.    

"Must be nice," Stiles thought to himself, sighing as he looked at himself in the mirror of his locker.  He laughed at himself, knowing full well that there would be no "bonding" for him.  

As far as werewolves went, he was the bottom of the barrel.  Pale completion?  Check.  A skinny, lanky, "couldn't lift a boulder if his life depended on it" build?   Check.  Oh, and to top everything else off?  Glasses.  A fucking werewolf with poor eyesight.  Yeah, because that was the stuff he came from.  A wimpy-ass genetic pool, to be sure.  

Well, not that he knew for sure.  

Being the adopted son of the humans Claudia and John Stilinski, neither he, nor his parents knew where his bloodline came from.  All they did know is that Stiles shifted into a full wolf on the full moons.

Shutting his locker, Stiles made his way down the hallways of Beacon Hills High School.  As the only werewolf high school in the county, they were (as always) packed to capacity.  Weaving in and out between the Juniors, Stiles finally made a breakthrough to the relatively abandoned Senior hallway.

"At least there's no traffic," Stiles thought, positively.  He smiled, slapping his face with both his hands.  "Come on Stiles... There are worse things than being unbonded and alone!  You could actually bond with someone with a noble bloodline and totally humiliate yourself and insult someone!  That would suck," he said to himself, laughing at the very thought.

Unfortunately, fate, as always, seemed to have just the perfect way of throwing Stiles a curve ball.

Just as he reached for the door knob to his English class, the door swung forward with a massive force.  The door struck him in the middle of the face, nearly breaking his nose in the process.

Flying backwards, Stiles fell on his ass, clutching his bony nose and the shattered remains of his eyeglasses.

"Shit!" Stiles yelled, feeling blood pouring down his nose.  He grunted, breathing in and out through his mouth while healing set in.  Which, for a wimpy-ass werewolf like himself, would probably take hours.  Just another reason why he made for such a shitty mate.

A pair of soft hands touched his shoulders, while a very warm sensation prickled up and down his body.

"I am...  I am so sorry!  I forgot my book, and I was rushing back to the lockers to get, and I sort of...  Well, I broke your face, sorry!" a husky voice said, awkward and genuinely sincere.  

Opening his eyes, Stiles could barely make out the flurry figure.  He adjusted the snapped glasses with his free hand, as the world came into perfect view again.  

Which, forced Stiles to quickly drop his glasses to pretend he didn't see what he thought he saw.  

Senior Derek Hale.  As in, the younger of the Alpha Twins, the brother of Laura Hale.  The next co-leaders of the Beacon County territory, and possibly one of the well-respected noble lines in all of the world of werewolves.  Stiles could probably fit three of his own body in Derek, especially with Derek's supernatural height bordering at 7 feet in height.  A handsome man, Derek's punked up black hair, his curved butt, and his legendary leather jacket had been many the werewolf sexual fantasy.

"It...  It's fine!  It'll heal," Stiles said, scrambling up to his feet and trying to wipe up the pool of blood with his sleeve.  Which really, only made things worse.

Derek rose an eyebrow.  "Uh...  You look like someone tried to murder you...  Shit, you've got a black eye too...  I am..  I am so sorry!" he said, gently touching the quickly bruising skin.

Mentally groaning, Stiles wanted to cry.  He'd practically been taken down.  By a door.  

"It's...  It's fine.  Really!  I uh... I've got to get to class," Stiles said, trying to brush past Derek.  

Derek stopped him, grabbing him by the shoulders and effortlessly yanking him back.  "No.  Let me take you to the office, I think they have like...  At least one or two first aid kits for when the humans come visit?  That could at least get the blood off," he said.

Oh, great.  Stiles' face burned.  Now not only had he been taken down by a door, but he was wasting the time of a Hale.  A fucking noble bloodline, wasting their time with...  Whatever the fuck Stiles was.

"Seriously!  I'm fine!  See, it's already stopped bleeding!" Stiles said, pointing to his nose.  A fresh stream bubbled out of Stiles' nose, the traitorous bastard.

Derek did something odd with his eyebrows.  Something which seemed to say "bullshit" in the most facially elegant way possible.

Stiles rose up a finger to argue further, to bring up that Derek didn't need to bother with someone like Stiles, only to feel a burning, stinging, horrifically painful stinging feeling on his neck.  Clutching it, Stiles hissed in pain.  "What...  What the..." he said, writing in the pain, as he fell to his knees.  "Ah!  Ow!  Ow!" he shouted.  The scent of burning flesh hit his nose, and Stiles' eyes blew out.

"No.  No.  No..." Stiles begged, as he saw Derek fall to his knees as well.  While not as much of a baby as Stiles was about the pain, his face cringed at the sensation, grabbing a wound on the same part of his neck.

The something worse than being bondless?  Well that was happening.  

Stiles felt his lungs burn, as the world around him began to spin.  

He saw Derek's red eyes glowing, his body slowly shifting into his half-form, somewhere between human and werewolf.  Derek's hand rose up, revealing a branded mark, still sizzling with tender red burn marks.  A mixture of tribal art, shaped into a sword now appeared on Derek's neck, with sharp curves twists, and a rough hilt.

Derek's pain ended, as he slowly stood back up to his feet.  Students had gathered around, including several teachers.  Hushed whispering, and even a little applause echoed around them, as the town's Alpha had bonded.

Yet Stiles stayed perfectly still in his spot.  He crawled away from Derek, hiding the mark on his neck, cringing at the still-sensitive wound.  

Stiles couldn't see Derek's face without adjusting his glasses.

"Do...  Do you have it too?  The mark?" Derek asked softly.

Flinching away, Stiles couldn't fight against or stop the Alpha's hand, even if he wanted.   Instead, Stiles watched Derek pull his hand away, revealing the marking on Stiles' neck.  Just like Derek, Stiles' neck had been marked with the same tribal sword bonding mark.  Same shape, same design, and same placement.  In a flash, the last of the bonding process started.

Stiles watched in horror as “ _Aleksander”_ wrote itself on Derek’s blade.  A hiss of burning on Stiles’ neck also added “Derek” to Stiles’” mark.

Then, like that, it was done.

Stiles stood on the floor, shaking like a leaf.

Derek stood overhead, with a soft smile.  

“I...  I have a soulmate.  I... I actually have a soulmate!” Derek said, practically purring the words out in an excited breath.  He reached out his hand to Stiles, practically glowing in joy.  “What’s your name?  I...  I don’t think we’ve met before.  I’m Derek Hale, and I’m with the Hale...” he said, before his face darkened.

For in a flash, Stiles dropped his school bag scrambling up to his feet, and sprinting past the circle of students that had gathered around him.  

Stiles ran, dropping his glasses in the process, leaving them behind in the middle of the hallway.  

Stiles ran, bypassing his Jeep in the parking lot, and instead letting his claws erupt out of his feet.  

Stiles ran, bounding on all fours, crying the entire way home, several miles away.

 

+++++

 

Doing what any self-respecting werewolf would do after completely humiliating himself, Stiles hid under his bed.  Which, wasn’t so bad.  His face had finally healed three hours after being attacked by the asshole door, and he had a blanket.  A soft blanket.  Hell, he even had a pillow.  More than he deserved, really.

Yep, Stiles was content to stay there the rest of his life.  The rest of his organized, tidy, book-covered room?  Didn’t need it.  He also didn’t need the rest of the two-story classic American home in the human neighborhood of Beacon Hills, California.  Nope, he’d just stay under the bed and slowly starve to death.  Maybe he could get his mom to throw him a cracker or two on her way to work.

Because, really, that was his only option.

Burying his head into his pillow, Stiles curled up into a ball, snuggling under the blanket and hiding as far away from the world as possible.

“Really?!  Really, Fate, God, whatever the fuck magical being decides these fucking mate bonds!?  You had to pair me with an Alpha Twin?!  With the Hales?!  Why?!  Why would you do that?!  Do you WANT to see me humiliated?  Do you WANT to see the Hales lose any respect they’ve got!?  Fucking assholes, the lot of you,” Stiles said, for the hundredth time that day.   

Nothing about that day was fair, for anyone.  It wasn’t fair that Derek Hale had been stuck with a bonding partner like Stiles, and wouldn’t ever get another one for the rest of his life.  It wasn’t fair to Stiles that he now had to endure the pain of being rejected, even worse than being bondless.

Stiles felt a low whine emanated from his nose, as he tried to curl even further into a ball.

“Stiles?” a soft voice asked, accompanied by a knock.  

Slamming his eyes shut, Stiles gulped, ,hearing his mother’s footsteps slowly come inside the room.  Without hesitating, Claudia Stilinski bent down under the bed, knowing good and well where her son’s hiding spot was.  In her violet medical scrubs from the local ER, she slowly wiped her soft brown bangs out of her eyes.  “Stiles?  Can you come out, please?” she asked softly.  

Shaking his head, Stiles huffed through his nose.  There would be no leaving from under the bed ever again.  He could totally home-school from there.  

A frown crossed Claudia’s face.  “Stiles, please come out.  The school called me at the ER, as well as Talia Hale.  Did...  Did you really bond today?” she asked soft.

Without even meaning to, Stiles felt an overwhelming, overpowering whine leave  his nose.  Worse than a crying puppy at the pound, the noise even caught Claudia off-guard.

Because...  Talia Hale.  Talia Hale had to take time out of her busy schedule to call Stiles’ mother?!  THE Talia Hale, who’d worked with the Hunter clans to create the first international werewolf treaty?!  THE Talia Hale, the only alpha daughter of Gregory Hale, the man who’d single-handedly brought werewolves and all of the supernatural out of the shadows and into the human world?  THAT Talia Hale, whose blood had changed the world itself?!

“Oh...  Oh Stiles, please come out, baby, you’re scaring me,” Claudia said, as she reached her hands out, trying to pull Stiles from out under the bed.  A rather simple task, given Stiles’ weight, but ultimately futile as Stiles locked his claws into the carpeting, letting loose another whine.

Claudia grunted, tugging at Stiles with all the strength she could muster.  “Stiles Stilinski!  You...  Get... OUT OF THERE!” she said, yelling in triumph as she finally managed to get Stiles out from under the bed, and into the middle of his room.  Huffing, she shook her head, wiping sweat from her brow.  

In half-shift, Stiles’ pointed werewolf ears were both flat against his head, his golden eyes distant and far-off.  

“Okay!  I win werewolf wrestling today.  Out with it, kiddo,” Claudia ordered, as she and Stiles slowly situated themselves on Stiles’ bed.  

Holding onto his pillow for dear life, Stiles shook his head.  “You wouldn’t understand.  It’s...  It’s a werewolf thing,” he mumbled quietly.

Claudia huffed.  “Stiles, today a patient came into the hospital missing three organs.  A druid emissary came in and used magic to make imaginary, illusion organs to keep this person alive until they could get a transplant.  There’s a LOT I don’t understand in this world with all this supernatural stuff, but I roll with the damn punches and learn to understand it,” she said, putting her arm around Stiles and pressing a kiss into the side of his head.  “Now come on...  Tell me what’s wrong, and what made you skip half a day of school, and apparently run away from your Bond Mate?” she asked.

Dropping his head in shame, Stiles pushed back tears.  His vision was already blurry without his glasses, he didn’t need it any worse.

“I uh...  I told you I wouldn’t probably bond, right?” Stiles said.

Claudia nodding, gently rubbing circles into Stiles’ back.

“Well, that’s because of my blood.  Humans measure value in money and economic status.  Werewolves?  It’s all about the bloodline,” Stiles said, holding up three fingers.  “There’s the Noble Bloodlines, or werewolves that did something to make them a step above the rest.  The Hales are Noble Blood, for everything they did to make the world aware of us, and do it peacefully,” he said, ticking off one of his fingers.  “Then there’s the Common Bloodlines.  Those are werewolves who aren’t Noble, but also aren’t Tainted.  About 90% of werewolves are Common Bloodlines,” he said, leaving the last finger risen.  “Then...  There’s Tainted Bloodlines.  These are the werewolves who are either mentally insane, murderers, have done some horrific crime, or...  Are physically inadequate,” Stiles said, looking down the bridge of his recently broken nose.  A nose that was broken by a door.  A door.

“Oh...” Claudia said, looking Stiles up and down.  “You...  You think you’re Tainted!?” she asked, her eyes and jaw dropping to the ground.

Stiles nodded, chuckling.  “I know I am.  I mean, I can’t prove it because I don’t know who my parents are, but... I mean, look at me,” he said, raising up his t-shirt, revealing a thin, almost skeletal build.  “I can’t gain weight or muscle.  My eyes don’t work right.  All I’m good for is hearing and running.  Which...  Yeah, that’s Tainted Blood, mom.  Blood nobody is going to want to mate with.  Werewolves with Noble Blood aren't going to want me meddling up their families.  Actually...  That's probably why my folks abandoned me.  Figured I wasn’t worth having as an heir,” he said, sighing.

Claudia scoffed, standing up and cupping Stiles’ head in her hands.  “Stiles, that’s nonsense,” she said, with a weak, pained smile.  “You’re a bright boy, and you’re at the top of your class!  You’ve got scholarship offers for Colleges next year, and have your pick of any of them!” she exclaimed, shaking her head.  “You’re the sweetest young man I know!  You volunteer at the hospital, you babysit for all of our neighbors, and EVERYONE on this block loves you during hunting season, when you feed all of these mouths.  Stiles...  You’re amazing!” she boasted.

Shrugging, Stiles shut his eyes.  “To a human, mom.  To a werewolf?  Yeah, I’m a reject Omega,” he admitted, shaking his head.  “Derek Hale deserves better, mom.  I can’t be his bond mate, I’d just embarrass us both.  If Talia wants to do a formal rejection, then...  I won’t object, I understand completely.  They’ve got magic to remove the bond mark,” he said, flinching as he touched the sword design on his neck.

Her eyes and face lost in the mess of all of this talk, Claudia shut her eyes to hide the tears.

“It’s not that big of a deal, mom,” Stiles said, trying to smile.  He didn’t mean to upset her.  “I mean...  Like you said, I’m pretty cool to humans.  I..  I don’t have to be part of a pack, or have a bond mate.  I...  I can just live with humans.  It’s fine.  I can be happy like that,” Stiles said, grateful that his mother couldn’t read lies as well as werewolves.  

Claudia sighed, shaking her head.  “Stiles...” she said, taking her son’s hands in her own.  “All you ever talked about as a little boy was wanting to have a soulmate and have a pack.  You couldn’t wait to bond when you were a big boy, and make a pack big enough for all of your family, werewolf and human.  Then you wanted more room to adopt werewolves, just like your new mommy and daddy did,” she said, with a pout.  “So I know that’s bullshit, young man,” she said assertively.

Stiles didn’t respond.  How could he?  It'd just hurt to say it aloud.

Claudia stood awkwardly beside her son, until finally pulling him into a tight bear hug.

“Oh Stiles...  Everything will work out, I promise.  We’ll get through this and everything will be fine.  Talia Hale is going to call me later tonight after she speaks with her son.  We’ll all figure this out,” Claudia said, in her same soft tone.

“Yeah, right,” Stiles thought to himself, keeping that sentiment to himself.

Instead, he did smile, at the...  The one fact.

“They named me Aleksander,” Stiles muttered.

Claudia lifted her head up, her face in shock.  “You...  You saw your name!?  Oh Stiles, I’m so happy for you!” she said, with an excited glow on her face.  

Stiles nodded.  Even if the rest of the world crashed around him by this time next week, at least he knew...

“Yeah...  I guess you were right all along,” he said, with a little warmth in his stomach.  “My biological parents loved me enough to name me.  Aleksander...” Stiles said, chuckling to himself.

  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Stiles cursed his obscene hunger, which shook him from a blissful, dreamless sleep that didn’t involve bonding with a Noble Bloodline.  Because as soon as the scent of sizzling beef hit his nose, Stiles’ rumbling teenage stomach forced him out of his room, and downstairs later that same evening of the worst day of his life.  

Reaching the downstairs living area, Stiles peeked over towards the kitchen.  His adoptive father, John Stilinski, was home from work as the acting Sheriff of the county.  Standing a little shorter than Stiles, John had broad shoulders, a strong figure, and a wrinkled, tired face from years working on the police force.

Finally giving in to the curiosity, Stiles walked into the black and white tiled kitchen, taking a seat at the table at the edge, and spotting the frying beef patties.  French fries were frying off in the grease basket next to him, and Stiles could smell his mother’s strawberry pie in the oven.

He also spotted John wearing something other than a t-shirt and boxers on his off-time, dressed up nicely in a warm sweater and khakis.  Weird.

“Figured you could use cheeseburgers tonight, kiddo,” John said, adding his own hand-made powder over raw meat to the side, and looked to be making plenty of food for the evening.

Stiles nodded.  “Yeah.  I could,” he answered, glancing away from his father.  “I guess mom told you,” he said.

“Actually, no,” John said, shaking his head.  “I found out from Alec Hale, Derek’s father.  He works for the County Courthouse as a prosecutor, and paid me a visit.  He’s...  Worried,” he said.

Groaning, Stiles slammed his head against the kitchen table, mumbling horrible things into the faux-wood.  

“Alec didn’t mention anything about al that blood stuff, he was more worried about Derek slamming a door into your face and a potential lawsuit...  But...  Your mother told me about the blood problem, and...  Son, I don’t pretend to know squat about werewolves other than what you tell me, but...  Why would blood be a big deal with you and Derek?  You’re both men, so...  It’s not like...  I mean, the two of you couldn’t...” John said, gently pausing as he faked holding a baby in his arms..

“I’m an Omega, dad.  Yeah, we can,” Stiles answered embarrassingly.  

“You’re kidding?” John asked, spinning around and glancing curiously at his son.

Stiles shook his head after raising up from the table.  “No, dad.  We’re not having a talk about THAT today.  I’m already very uncomfortable.  Get the cliff notes from mom, she knows,” he answered.

John nodded.  “Gotcha,” he answered, clearing his throat.  He went back to his hamburgers, flipping several on the stove.  “...but what happens when you want to give bir-”

“DAD,” Stiles barked.

“Sorry, sorry!” John answered, snagging several slices of American cheese and plopping them over the frying meat.  “I’d love to know more about my son’s culture, sometime, you know!  You never tell your mother or I anything unless we beg, so I’m just curious,” he added, for just a slightest amount of a guilt trip.

 _“I don’t share because I don’t want you to know how much of a failure you have for a son,”_ Stiles thought to himself.

Hopping up from the kitchen table, Stiles made his way over to the fridge, opening it up, and pulling out a tall bottle of water.  He uncapped it, taking a long swig.  

“They’ll be here in 15 minutes, John!” Claudia exclaimed.  Walking into the kitchen, Claudia sniffed their air with a contented sigh, while finishing a ravishing turtleneck outfit with a pair of dangling hoop earrings.  “Oh that smells heavenly...  By the way, make sure and leave Talia and Alec’s rather rare, she doesn’t do “well done”!” she answered, before turning her attention to Stiles.  “Oh!  You’re awake!  You might want to get a little dressed up, Talia and her husband Alec are coming over for dinner,” she explained.

Stiles spat out all the water he’d been drinking, turning to his parents in disbelief.  “They’re WHAT?!” he shouted.

“Oh Lord, disgusting...  Clean that up, Stiles!” Claudia said, throwing Stiles a roll of paper towels, before moving to assist John with the french fries.  “...and yes, Derek’s parents are coming over.  They wanted to talk to the three of us personally.  I wasn’t going to wake you, but since you’re up, I’m sure your presence will be needed and wanted,” she explained.

“I...  I...  Oh shit...  Shit, I’ve got...  Got to shower, and dress, and...  Dammit!” Stiles mumbled, quickly wiping up his spit-take, before bounding up the staircase, running through his closet for his Sunday best, and throwing himself into the upstairs bathroom.  

Stripping out of everything, Stiles threw his clothes into the laundry hamper, and stepped into a steaming jet of water enjoying the warmth on what had been a particularly cold day.  His heart raced, while he snagged his own special scentless shampoo, and dolloping a generous amount into his hair.

“Just do it like a band-aid, Stiles...  Won’t be that bad, just a quick dinner, a “it’s you, not us” speech, and…  Just...  Oh, who am I kidding, this is going to suck ass,” Stiles thought to himself, while washed out the white suds in his hair.  Snagging his extra strength were-bodywash, Stiles made sure to wash each and every area of his body.

Trying to remember all of the stages of a Bonding Rejection, Stiles was more grateful than usual to have human parents.  A rejection usually consisted of one bonded mate’s parents formally declaring an inadequacy with the other bonded mate.  Assuming that the werewolf agreed with his or her’s parents (Derek would most definitely agree, Stiles figured), then the Bonding would be nullified in full.  Which usually resulted in bloody conflict between the parents, and sometimes even resulted in outright pack disputes, if not a full-fledged bloodbath.  Sure, his parents wouldn’t be thrilled about their son getting rejected, but it wasn’t a “grrr bloodline and family honor insulted” thing for humans like it was with werewolves.

...Actually, Stiles could picture his father going “grrr bloodline insulted”, but even John wasn’t stupid enough to pick a fight with an Alpha.

Finished in the shower, Stiles quickly towel-dried, and moved to the mirror in order to do something with his teeth and hair.

“Why are they even coming?  They could reject something like me over the phone.  It’s not like...  Like I’m even worth their time,” Stiles said to himself, sighing.  Wasting more of the Hale’s precious time.  He dreaded going back to school, and listening to the whispers in the hallway.  Stiles had gone nearly his entire life at school without hearing anything negative about himself.  Come tomorrow?  Everyone would be talking about “the tainted, rejected Omega”.

“Goddamnit...  Tried so hard to...  To stay under the radar, and YOU,” Stiles said, pointing at his brand mark.  “You just had to fuck all that up!” he yelled, thumping the mark painfully.  He forced back tears as he combed his hair.  He tried to put on a brave smile.  “At least...  At least you’ll have a little fun in the Rejection, maybe?  I mean...  The Hales decided to spend time on you, and you’re getting to meet the Regional Alpha.  That’s...  That’s pretty cool, at least,” he said, talking to the reflection in the mirror.   

It really was an honor.  A Regional Alpha was akin to a State Governor.  There were definitely more, at least 2-3 per state, but with all of them of Noble Bloodlines, they were always a well-respected individual from an even higher respected family.  Modern day Royalty, to be sure, and Stiles would have a chance to actually MEET one.  That shit didn’t happen every day.

Taking a few minutes to stuff himself into a pair of nice cargo pants, and tucking in his best plaid shirt, Stiles reluctantly also snagged his spare glasses from the bottom most drawer.  He put the glasses on, glad to finally see a little more focus in his world, but hating the fact that...  Well, he’d have to face Alpha Hale with such a disgusting sight.

“Tis better to look like a freak than trip over a table and step on her foot,” Stiles mumbled to himself, before exiting the bathroom and hobbling over to his bedroom.  

At his desk, Stiles snagged his silver watch, an expensive, stylish gift from John on his 18th birthday.  He put on the cologne his mother bought for him last Christmas, a special-order variety that was toned down for sensitive werewolf noses.  While loathing the idea of putting one on, Stiles also snagged a solid navy tie, to go with the light blue and white tone of his plaid shirt.  Babcia Stilinski had gotten him nicer clothes like that for his birthday, to ready him for “the big bonding day”!  Actually, most of his human relatives on both his mother and father’s side were all looking forward to meeting his Soulmate all interested in that part of werewolf culture more than just about anything.  He just hadn’t had the heart to tell them all about his…  Inadequacies.

Chuckling as he finished the last of his primping, Stiles admired himself in the mirror.  “You know, if you were human, you’d probably look good,” he said, as he put on a dark brown belt around his waist to complete the look.  In human magazines, he'd definitely fall somewhere under the hipster or geeky fashion category.  

Ears twitching, Stiles could hear a car turning into their driveway.  

“They’re here...” Stiles said, taking a deep breath as he gave himself one final glance-over.  “Time to...  Get this over with,” he said, before gently touching his branded Bond Mark.  While he moved his fingers across the gently raised ink, a tingling chill went down his spine.  He imagined Derek Hale, the handsome, dorky, and kind man that always had something brilliant to say in English class.  They guy who always gave 100% in everything, and would probably take their lacrosse team to State again.  He imagined "dat ass".

Stiles imagined, if only for a moment, that he’d been born a Common Blood.  He’d probably be lying in bed with Derek right now in post-sex glow, or maybe this dinner would have such a nicer connotation about it, maybe even offering the Stilinski humans to join the Hale Pack.  

The idea of having kids, being a part of such an honorable family, and maybe even being able to to fall in love.  Actual love, with dating, and double dates, and pack dates, and…  A wedding.

Picturing himself coming home from work, and into a house full of werewolves, friends and family alike, and his parents living under the safety of a group of werewolves, so they'd never have to worry about anything ever again.

Laughing, Stiles threw himself out of the image as he heard several car doors slam outside the house.  His brand throbbed in a low, playful heat.

“Quit dreaming...  It...  It’s not ever going to happen.  Not now, not ever, not with anyone,” Stiles said, in a whimpered whine through his nose.

 

+++++

 

As he stepped into the dining room, Stiles could see the introductions had already been made.  His mom and dad were in a fervent conversation about the local lacrosse team’s victory last Friday night.

Almost deciding to spin around and let his parents just tell him later that he’d been rejected, he froze as a well-built woman spun around.  Standing a little taller than Stiles did, she had a strong figure, piercing red eyes, hair flawlessly presented in black curls, and a stern face.  Alpha Talia Hale, dressed in the finest of suits, who made all of those intimidating features go away with a loving, motherly smile.

“This must be Aleksander!  Or wait, I’m sorry, you go by Stiles!” Talia said, making a beeline for Stiles.

Holding out his hand, Stiles expected a firm handshake.  Or maybe just a stern glare.

“It’s an honor to meet you Alpha Ta-” Stiles said, muffled as he was squeezed in possibly the tightest bear-hug he’d ever experienced in his life.  Werewolf strength, combined with Alpha powers?  Had it not been for Alpha Hale’s soft chest, he probably would have been split open like a tube of toothpaste.

“Is she trying to kill me!?  Oh God!  I’m even worse than I thought!” Stiles thought, panicking.

“So good to meet you!  I’ve been waiting my whole life for this day!  My son and daughter’s soul mates...  Oh God...  It feels like just yesterday they were little babies in my arms, and...  Now they’re all grown up...” Talia exclaimed, before releasing Stiles from her crushing hug.  She looked to be on the verge of tears, pulling out a small handkerchief to dab at her eyes.  “I cried meeting Jordan too.  Good grief, tell no one of this!” she said, with a gentle laugh.

Backing away, Stiles could barely comprehend...  Well, any of that.

“Forgive my wife, she’s a little...  Overzealous today,” a warm male voice said.

Turning to the side, Stiles watched a tanned, blonde male step in front of Talia.  Surprisingly shorter than Stiles, the man made up for his stature with strong, bulging muscles, and now Stiles understood where Derek probably got his from.  With icy blue eyes, there was no mistaking Alec Hale, Beta, and husband of Talia Hale.  Marrying into the Hale Family, Alec had given up his Alpha status in order to be with his bonded partner, and allow her to continue the Hale family’s great legacy.  

Alec extended his hand, crushing Stiles’ in a firm handshake.  “Alec Hale.  I’m glad to meet you, Stiles,” he said, with a warm smile.

Tongue tied, and rather confused, Stiles could only mumbled out a sort of “thank you”.  This wasn’t the kind of atmosphere that came with a rejection.  Something was very off, and very wrong.  

“Dinner is ready, if you’d all like to come into the dining room?” Claudia asked, moving behind Stiles and patting him on the shoulder.  “What can we get you two to drink?  We’ve got sweet tea, sodas, and a few bottles of beer that my husband thinks I don’t know about,” she asked, with a playful smile.

“Tea would be lovely,” Alec said, turning to his wife, who nodded in agreement.

The five all gathered into the dining room, which had already been planted with plates, utensils, and plenty of napkins.  John brought the steaming patties out of the kitchen, while Claudia brought out the french fries and a platter of cut toppings.

“Mmm...  Smells wonderful, thank you so much for inviting us into your home,” Talia said, taking a seat right next to Stiles.  

“It’s our pleasure,” Claudia answered.

Alec sat beside Talia, while Stiles’ traitorous parents sat on the opposite side of the table.  

While Claudia served everyone a tall glass of iced tea, the rest began fumbling to fill their plates up.

“So...  Stiles, I understand my son broke your face and glasses with a door.  Please tell me he remembered to apologize?  My son can be...  Well, my son can be a teenage male sometimes and do very rude things,” Talia asked, while squirting ketchup onto her plate.

Flushing, Stiles nodded immediately.  “Yes Alpha Talia, he did.  It was an accident, really,” he explained.

To which, Talia actually smiled.  “It’s Talia, or Mrs. Hale, Stiles.  I don’t do formality,” she retorted, patting him on the shoulder.  “Oh, and Derek sends his further apologies as well,” she said.

Stiles nodded.  “It’s...  It’s fine,” he answered, snagging a heaping of fries.  

Poor Derek, Stiles thought.  The guy probably was even more embarrassed than Stiles was about all of this.  Bonding with a Tainted?  Having to explain to his parents that he’d bonded with a Tainted?  Fuck, having the whole school sit and watch as he Bonded with a Tainted, and knowing one of the bastards was probably recording the time...  

“Tell Derek, I’m sorry too.  I...  I didn’t mean for any of that to happen,” Stiles said, as he munched on his cheeseburger.

Alec shook his head.  “None of that was your fault, Stiles,” he said.

Shoulders dropping in relief, Stiles smiled.  At least they understood the bonding wasn’t some sort of evil plot.  .

“Derek should have watched where he was going, and not swung the door so hard.  I swear, I tell that kid every day to control his strength, and what does he do?” Alec asked, turning to Talia.

“Behaves like an idiot and breaks another student's face, who was his bondmate.  I swear, he gets that from his Uncle Peter,” Talia said, laughing with Alec, at...  Derek’s expense?

Stiles looked to them both cautiously.  So they hadn’t been talking about the Bond?  Eating quietly, Stiles tried to keep a low profile, as the adults seemed to drive most of the conversation that evening.  Which ranged to about any kind of talk, thought mostly about kids.

_“Derek and his twin sister would chew on EVERYTHING when they teethed.  My father’s antique clock?  Ruined!” Talia exclaimed._

_“Oh Lord, we just gave up when Stiles went through teething.  Bought brand new furniture when he finally finished.  Worked out well though, John would have never let me buy any if it wasn't ruined,” Claudia added._

 

_“Did Stiles ever just...  You know, literally eat everything out of the refrigerator?  Because I swear, between my son and his pack of friends,I don’t think I ever made it without a trip to the grocery store on my way home from work. since they hit 6th grade.” Alec offered._

_“That’s not a werewolf thing, Alec, that’s a teenage boy thing.  My buddies and I would eat 5 frozen pizzas together, and STILL go out for burgers on Saturday nights!  My mother says that’s why I’m packing the extra weight now,” John retorted, with a snort as he padded his stomach._

 

_“Oh?!  Is that Derek in the bathtub as a furry half-shifted baby?  Aw, that is the cutest thing ever!” Claudia exclaimed, looking at a wide array of photos in Alec’s wallet._

_“Aww…  Stiles like to play dress up!  The picnic table looks good as a cape!” Talia shouted, looking through John’s wallet photos._

 

_“Derek is just about failing math.  I swear, that boy can write a 20 page essay in ten minutes, and tell me every President in the right order, but his Calculus homework is apparently like reading hieroglyphics,” Alec said, shaking his head._

_“Stiles could help him with that!  He’s in the AP Calculus class, but I’m sure they cover some of the same material.” John responded._

__  
  


Keeping deadly quiet, Stiles kept waiting for the ball to drop.  Waiting for the topic to finally turnover.  All of the suspense killed him, and he almost would have rather gotten a phone call by this point.  Because hearing about Derek’s obsession with “that Starcraft thing” (according to Talia) made Stiles pine all that more for what could have been.

As they finished up dinner, they all stood up and made their way into the living area, leaving the dishes for a later time.

“...I must say, and I am not meaning this is any negative way,” Talia said, as they all gathered in the living room for dessert.  John and Alec passed out the pie and ice-cream, while Claudia refilled everyone’s drinks.

Stiles took a deep breath, again, letting his shoulders relax in relief.  “Here it comes...” he thought.

Talia, however, just smiled.  “30, hell even 10 years ago...  I would have laughed in someone’s face if I heard that humans had adopted a werewolf child, and given him a loving home like this.  I...  I’ve got to say, Claudia, John, that tonight has been just about one of the most rewarding nights of my life.  This kind of progress with human/werewolf relations?  I..  I just can’t even verbalize it,” she said, turning to Stiles and patting him on the knee.  “Do you mind if I ask...  How it happened?” she said.

Glancing away, Stiles nodded, turning to his mother to tell the story.  “I…  I don’t care, mom can tell it.  It’s not that big of a deal,” he explained.  

“Good.  They’ll get around to the topic about not knowing my heritage, and be super nice about how they can’t let a stranger into their family.  No heartbreak, just all facts!  See!  I knew they were classy people,” Stiles thought to himself, trying to put on a happy face.  

“I’d love to hear about it,” Talia said, turning up to Claudia while taking a warm cup of coffee from her.

Claudia nodded.

“I’ve worked in the ER since I graduated college, as a surgeon.  I’d been married to John since we’d graduated high school, though, so…  Oh goodness, very long time ago, imagine me with that bad 90’s haircut in a bob!” Claudia said with a humorous smile, taking a deep breath.  “One night, I was doing rounds when I came into the ER waiting area, and I spotted a little bundle of cloth.  When I went to pick it up, I saw a trembling, crying little baby werewolf, with its fangs poking out!” she said, clutching her heart.  “Oh heavens, I must have spent three hours trying to find this poor baby’s parents.  I knew how close werewolves were to their pups,so I knew they had to be worrying out of their mind.  In the end though, nobody at the hospital would claim him, so...  I called my husband, a deputy at the time, and we got child services involved,” she explained.

“Oh my goodness,” Talia said, covering her mouth sadly.  “To think someone would just…  Abandon a little pup!  Unheard of, and just ghastly,” she said pitifully.

Alec shook his head, growling quietly under his breath.

Taking over the story, John sighed.  “Like you said, Talia, back then, about 18 years ago, there wasn’t a lot of love for werewolves.  Too soon since the Supernatural curtain rose with your Papa.  So even in the world of child services, or even orphanages, there just wasn’t a place for him.  Even the state wouldn’t take him, because they were at full capacity, and suggested that the Sheriff’s department try to find a pack for him to belong to.  Because they had to deal with “human children” who needed a real home, not one of those “pack things” he said, rolling his eyes.  

Claudia giggled.  “That pissed my husband off so much he agreed to take the cub in until we could find a pack to take him in, or maybe even find his birth pack.  After a few months, we fell in love with the baby so much that...  Well, we adopted him ourselves.  You father Gregory was the one to sign off on it, actually, and I was so happy when that went through,” she said, clutching her stomach.  “I...  I can’t have children, you see.  We were always going to adopt anyway, but the lists and requirements were so long, we’d all but lost hope of ever having a child, so it worked out anyway,” she explained, planting a kiss on Stiles’ head as she sat next to him.  “He was our little miracle,” she said fondly.

John nodded, chuckling.  “We had a little shitfest with the human community here not appreciating a werewolf in their area, but...  Well, that changed over the years when my son could bag more bucks on hunting trips than the rest of the kids in the neighborhood combined, and would share with all of the families,” he said, shaking his head with a shit-eating, proud grin. “The other dads could eat their hearts out,” he exclaimed.

“I’d imagine!” Alec said, slapping the back of Stiles’ shoulder.  

Stiles blushed.  It wasn’t THAT impressive.  All he did was outrun the deer, and get a cheap kill.  The sharing?  Well, their freezer out back never really held all that much meat, and it just made sense to get the most out of their hunting license, and they were all his neighbors and community.  It just made sense.

“Stiles was also very helpful to a lot of people.  Anytime someone needed help on a roof, or on trees, or places where humans could actually kill themselves getting to?  Stiles was there to assist,” Claudia explained.  She picked up a picture from a nearby table, of Stiles holding a baby calf  in his arms, next to a pudgy older man with greying hair and a bad pair of overalls.  “Old Man Hingleblotter especially appreciated Stiles helping clean out his barn on the edge of town, and handle a lot of farmwork the old man couldn’t do anymore.  Took in Stiles as a farmhand for after school a few days a week, and weekends.  Stiles made enough last summer to buy his Jeep and insurance all on his own,” Claudia said.

Bowing his head, Stiles blushed even more.  His parents always bragged on him becoming Hingleblotter’s farmhand, but...  It was just a job.  Sure, he’d taken over it after Hingleblotter’s asshole son ditched him, so it was a rough time to run all that land for a 70-year-old man, but...  Anyone would have done that.  If Stiles had been really altruistic, he would have done it for free, and not accepted the old man’s money.

“Good man,” Alec said, nodding just as proudly.

Talia smiled.  “He sure is.  I wish I could get either of my Alpha kids to do their own laundry, let alone those kind of things,” she said, with a small chuckle.  

Taking a sip of his after-dinner coffee, Alec checked his watch.  “Oh...  Oh, Talia, it’s already 9.  We really need to go check up on the McCall house, and potentially peel those boys off the wall to give them the pack talk,” he said with a warm chuckle.

Talia nodded.  “Yes, I suppose”, she said, sighing as she crammed the last of her pie in her mouth.  “Then the Martin house, and I want to go check up on Laura and Jordan,” she explained, laughing as she turned to face John and Claudia.  “The pains of all our pack pups all turning 18 the same year.  Bonding left and right, and doing things that no parent ever wants to picture them doing,” she exclaimed, before standing up and walking with her husband off to the front door.

Claudia and John joined them, while Stiles sat quietly on the couch.  

“Wait...  What?” Stiles asked himself, still waiting for the rejection.  Hell, he’d been waiting for it all night.

That is, until Talia stopped just in front of Stiles, bending down and extending her hand.  “It was so very nice to meet you, Stiles.  I’m glad that my son’s soulmate turned out to be such a lovely young man,” she said.

Stiles shook her hand, standing up to meet her gaze.  “Just say it already.  Just…  Just get it over with!” he thought, a little desperate sounding up in his head.

Fate had other plans, apparently.

“Derek would like to take you out tomorrow night.  Can he pick you up tomorrow at 8?  He’d ask himself, but I’m afraid my son is...  Rather embarrassed about having smashed your face in, and he’s worried you hate him.  Which, I hope isn’t the case, or I’ve just made an ass of myself,” Talia said, with a warm smile.

Stiles checked Talia’s heartbeat several times.  She...  She wasn’t lying.

“I believe he wants to take you to Madam Wu’s Chinese Restaurant.  It’s a fantastic place, and the soup is to die for!  Not sure what his plans are for after that, but…  I leave that part of the relationship for the two of you to decide on!” Talia exclaimed, winking.

“Derek...  Derek wants to date me?!  Why?!” Stiles asked, his mouth dropped in shock.  Okay, maybe blurting it out had been a bad choice, especially to a Regional Alpha, but…  Really, he’d had enough and was ready to get this over with.

Talia nodded, a slight concern crossing her features.  “Of course, sweetheart.  You’re his soulmate, why wouldn’t he?” she asked, as if it were the dumbest question in the world.

Dropping his head, Stiles bit his lip.  “I mean...  I’m not...  I...  I’m Tainted...  I...  I couldn’t ask your family to deal with me, I’m not worth it,” he muttered quietly.

Across the room, Alec Hale stopped mid-sentence in a conversation with Claudia and John.  His face froze in place.

Which was a pale response when compared to Talia’s.  Her hands dropped to the sides, color draining out of her face.  An overwhelming scent of pity wafted off her in droves.

Stiles sighed.  “You don’t have to pretend, I mean…  I’m not that selfish.  That, or…  I guess you didn’t know,” he said, pointing to his glasses.  “I guess nobody told you...  Thought it was kind of obvious, but it’s okay though, I...  I know.  I know I’m not good enough for the Hal-”

For the second time that night, he felt a bone-crushing hug knock the breath out of him.  Followed by a stampeding of feet from Alec Hale, who’d gone into half-shift and had a pair of burning blue eyes.

“Who the hell called you that?  Who the HELL dared to call you that?!” Alec screeched, as claws erupted out of his hands.  He turned to Claudia and John.  “Do you know?!  We don’t put up with that shit in our territory.  Tell us and we’ll make sure that kind of insult is never spoken to Stiles ever again!  I am so sorry he had to hear that kind of…  Dribble,” he yelled, in a completely uncharacteristic bile of rage.

Claudia and John exchanged confused looks.  None more so than Stiles.

Releasing Stiles from the hug, Stiles watched Talia’s eyes glow an even more intimidating shade of red than before.  “Unacceptable.  Oh sweetheart, that’s just nonsense,” she said, shaking her head.  “There is no “Tainted” blood, Stiles.  That’s just a foolish concept that people like to still pretend matters.  Too many packs still believe in all that nonsense...” Talia explained.

Alec put his hand on Stiles’ shoulder, pulling him away from Talia.  “Son, don’t you ever, and I mean, EVER think you’re less of a werewolf because of how you look, or where your blood comes from.  That is BULLSHIT,” he exclaimed.

Stiles couldn’t fathom a response to any of that.  Since when did a Noble Bloodline have that kind of thought process?!  

As a pup, his mother and father tried for months to find him a pack, who all rejected the him.  Years later, he’d asked some of the kids in those packs, who remembered a “Tainted” pup being passed around looking for a home.  Sure, they’d all been Common Bloodlines, but the the point stuck that it was why he’d been adopted by humans.

Why else would his biological parents ditch him?!

The kids at school?!  He’d never had friends in his life!  Sure, people were polite, but…  They were giving the poor Tainted Omega a hand-out.  

What other reason was there?!

“I…  I don’t want to…  I don’t want to screw your family name up!  You’re a Regional Alpha!  You’re the leader of the biggest pack in California!  Your family, I… I won’t drag them through the mud!  I wouldn’t ever do that!” Stiles retorted, only realizing…

Holy shit, he was actually arguing, actually raising his voice to a Regional Alpha.  

His heart and stomach sank, with even more shame falling on his shoulders.  How else was he going to fuck this up?!  How else was he going to be the worst excuse for a werewolf in the world?!

Before he knew it, Stiles shook his head, and tried to hide his tears from Talia and Alec.  “I’m…  I’m sorry, please excuse me..  Please don’t…  Please don’t worry about me, okay?  You don’t have to, and Derek doesn’t either.  When he wants to reject me, I…  I’m ready for it.  Whenever he wants to do it… I’ll be there,” he said, just before sprinting off upstairs, where a pillow and blanket would already be waiting for him under the bed.

...and like hell was his mother dragging him out ever again.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww... Poor Stiles. :( Don't worry, if you think any of those mamas or papas are going to let that slide, you're insane!
> 
> As always, I'd love your comments and feedback! I love hearing what you think of the work!


	3. Chapter 3

Thankful to his family for not chasing after him that evening, Stiles managed to get some reasonable amount of sleep.  

While he’d been awoken to the scent of breakfast cooking off downstairs, he didn’t stir from his bed.  Knowing full and well that his parents would be taking the day off, he wanted to put off “the talk” as long as he could.  He didn’t want to talk to them about Derek, about mating, or about any of it.  

Best case scenario is that the Hales would finally listen to Derek and let the rejection go through sometime today.  Stiles would get the rest of his bonding week over, and maybe let the school have enough time to die down enough to let him return to his life of quiet solitude.  He’d forget about the Hales, and about Derek, while focusing on his studies.  Then he’d be too busy at college to worry about what could have been.  Getting a job would keep his mind off Derek and the likelihood of him finding someone else to mate with, someone more respectable.  By the time he started working, he’d be too tired to think about having a family, and maybe he could retire early, away in some tropical paradise where the sunset could be enjoyed in the peace and quiet.

Though, for a best-case scenario, it still brought tears to Stiles’ eyes.  Curled up in a pillow, Stiles whined quietly through his nose, curling up in a ball.  

Because while it was wrong in so many ways to even consider it, Stiles still wanted Derek, wanted the Hales, and wanted a pack.  He wanted kids, a family, living in a big home with his parents, his new family, and potentially even some friends he could have made.  The thought of Derek Hale, the kind and sweet and gorgeous Derek Hale, and how they were predestined to be together for all of their lives?  

The thought of never having that forced another tear to roll down his face, and he let out a low moan into his pillow.  

“I’m an awful person...  I’d get what I want, and drag them down to my level to get it,” Stiles thought to himself bitterly.  

In a cycle of his own self-pity, Stiles huffed, covering himself up with a blanket.  He’d allow himself to dream, just a little longer.  Let himself enjoy the fantasy of this kind of wonderful life, and what could have been.  Enjoy the thought of him being Derek’s, and Derek being his.  Of love.  Of friendship.  Of pack.

Just as he about fell into a deeper sleep again, he heard a gentle knock at his door.

“Stiles?  Could you come downstairs for a while?  The Hales are sending over someone to settle things with you,” Claudia said quietly.

Stiles opened his eyes.  “So much for dreaming,” he thought to himself.  Staying still in his bed, he sighed.  “Okay, mom.  Be down in a little bit,” he said, in a lifeless, cold tone.

After taking a moment or two to the let the situation sink in completely, Stiles rummaged through his belongings, and dressed in a much less formal t-shirt and jeans.  He fiddled with his hair, and splashed water on his face to make the puffy eyes go away.  Only when he could look himself in the mirror without crying did Stiles finally trek downstairs.

Like he’d guessed, both of his parents had taken the day off.  John was in his recliner, enjoying an early-morning game show on TV and a cup of coffee.  Claudia was working the crossword puzzle, while a cup of tea steamed in front of her.

“Morning,” Claudia said, with a weak smile.

“Morning,” John said, glancing over with a short grin on his face.

Stiles smiled.  “Morning,” he said, walking over and taking a seat next to his mother.  “Can we...  Can we not talk about it until after it’s over?” he asked politely.  Because really, he didn’t want to bring any of it up.  He was already on the verge of tears, as-is.  

“Of course.  Not until everything’s settled,” Claudia said.  Her heart had a notable uptick.  A nervous alter-beat.

Stiles rose an eyebrow.  “Did you just...  No, you didn’t lie, but...  That’s not a good sign,” he said.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Claudia said, with a double up-tick.

“Okay, now you’re lying,” Stiles said, with a blunt tone.  He quickly turned to his father.  “What is she talking about?!” he asked.

John threw up a hand.  “I’m not saying squat, you’d know I was lying anyway, so what’s the point?” he admitted.

While trying to read in and whatever scent his parents were emanating, his investigation was stopped short by several loud thuds to the front door.

“That’s them,” Claudia said, with a curved smile on her face.  She smelled of...  Well, she smelled the same like when she’d convinced Stiles that watermelon seeds grew inside the human stomach.  A mischievous scent.

Rolling his eyes, he left his parents in the living area, and made it to the front door.  He swung it open, with a quick sigh.

“Hello, I’m-...” Stiles mumbled, before all words failed on him.

Stiles stood in awe, stepping away from the door as a shadow cascaded over him.  

With a size and build that made even Derek Hale look diminutive, the 98-year-old Gregory Hale (not looking a day over 40) was at the front door to Stiles’ home.  In a Henley t-shirt and khaki jeans that showed off his near-century’s worth of bodywork, the grey-haired man sported a bushy beard, and blood red eyes that could melt Stiles if they tried hard enough.

This man looked as though he were ready to snap Stiles’ neck, burn him alive, bring him back from the dead, and then burn him alive again.   

“Y...You’re...” Stiles stuttered, his brain long since unable to make any brand of communication.  He wondered if this was how humans felt meeting their President.  

No...  He wondered if this is how humans would act meeting their founding fathers.  That would probably be a closer feeling.  For the man in front of him had been responsible for bringing the entire Supernatural community into the light, and then fought (sometimes physically, sometimes in courtrooms, and often fighting the united nations) to hell and back to bring about the peace and forward-thinking world they now lived in, free of hunters and fear.  

Stiles was standing in front of his species’  greatest living legend.  The man who made all their lives worth living again.

“Are you..  Aleksander?  My Grandson, Derek Hale’s mate?” Gregory said, in a gruff, deep voice of a forgotten era.

Managing a very weak nod, Stiles felt his glasses slip down his nose, and he didn’t dare bother to move them.  

“Y...  Yes.  I’m...  I’m Stiles...  I mean...  Aleksander’s apparently my real name, but I uh...  I go by...  Stiles,” he muttered in a sheepish tone.

The wrinkled, angry, wizened face of Gregory Hale slowly faded in an instant.  Instead, a colorful, soft, and greatly bemused face of a grandfather let loose a roaring, happy, downright giddy laugh.  

“Well fuck me upside the head if Derek didn’t nab him the cutest little Pear I’ve ever seen!  Damn fine to meet you, I’m Pepaw to my kids, and you’re my kid now, so that goes the same to you!  Or Gramps, I guess.  Don’t care for that much, Peter’s kids always call me that...  Think they know it too!  Hell, don’t care what you call me!  Just don’t call me Gregory or Mr. Hale, or shit like that.  Pisses me off,” Gregory said, practically covering Stiles’ head with his massive hands and ruffling his hair playfully.  

Before Stiles could even so much as fathom a response, he was (quite literally) carried back inside the house, where his parents both smiled at him with a smug little grin on each of their faces.  The traitors.

“Nice to see you folks again!  It’s been what...  Well, I guess 18 years, huh little Pear?!” Gregory exclaimed, letting loose of Stiles and moving over to offer John a firm handshake, and a hug that ate Claudia whole from his overwhelming size.

“So good to see you again!” Claudia said, giggling as Gregory planted a chaste kiss on her hand.  

Gregory laughed loudly again, pointing behind him.  “Me?  I did jack shit but sign some paperwork and threaten to kill a few folks that threw a fit.  You?  You did just fine raising this kid.  I swear, Talia and Alec went on and on and on about him last night, and I talked to the Principal at Beacon who had nothing but the highest praise for your genius son!  Had to come see the fella myself!  Especially after hearing about all this...  Tainted bullshit!” he exclaimed, shooting a cautious glare Stiles’ way.

Stiles stood quietly, feeling his jaw drop.  “What...  What fresh hell is this?!” he thought, watching in horror as John smirked at his expense.

Walking over, John clapped his son on the shoulder, watching as the wizened Alpha continued to talk exaggeratedly with Claudia.

“Stiles, I’m sure you’re aware this is Gregory Hale.  Former Alpha of the Hale Pack, Former Regional Alpha for this section of California, former United Nations Ambassador, and former United States Senator.  Back when your mother and I first found you, he was the one to agree to let us adopt the stray werewolf in his territory,” John explained.

Finished with Claudia, Gregory beamed brightly at Stiles.  “Still remember that to this day.  Two human young’uns coming into our house packed with pissed off werewolfs bitter of humans, with a baby in their hands, asking if they could take you in,” he said, moving over and wrapping his massive arm around Stiles’ shoulder.  He laughed loudly.  “Tried to hold you for a couple of minutes to get a scent on you and see if they’d mistreated you any, and damn if you didn’t scream, bite, and piss on me through your diaper until I gave you back to your human mama!  Knew right then and there that they were good people.  Pups always know the good ones from the bad ones.  Better instinct!” he explained, nodding.

“I...  I pissed on Gregory Hale?” Stiles thought, mortified and feeling a little faint.

“Ruined my best sweater,” Gregory said, chuckling.  “That’s not why I’m here though!” he said, yanking Stiles down to the nearby couch, where they both landed with an audible thud.  Gregory’s eyes didn’t waver from Stiles.  “Talia and Alec tell me you think you’re tainted.  Now...  Why would an adorable little Pear like you think you’re tainted?” he asked.

“Why does he keep calling me a fruit, and why a pear?” Stiles thought to himself, before shaking the thought away.  

“Sir, with all-”

“I don’t do the Sir shit, Stiles,” Gregory corrected instantly, in a deep, serious Alpha tone that sent a shiver down Stiles’ spine.

“I uh...  Gregor-”

A low growl from the Mega-Alpha in the room about made Stiles piss on Gregory.  Again, apparently.

“Pe....Paw?” Stiles said, the words feeling...  Absurdly warm, which caused a low tingle in his stomach, yet downright disrespectful.  Him?  Related to a Hale?!  Something just didn’t compute with that.  “So uh...  I mean, I’m not exactly...  I don’t know who my parents are really, but even without that, I’m not...  I...  There’s so many other people that’d be better for Derek and his family!” he exclaimed, laughing nervously.

“No, there’s not,” Gregory said instantly.  In a low, serious tone.

Gulping, Stiles laughed nervously.  “Well, I uh...  I’m just saying that Derek and your family would be better off with someone a little bigger than I am!  Someone who’s not such a physical failure, and more red-blooded werewolf!” he offered instead, with another light laugh.

“No, we wouldn’t,” Gregory said, again, in his flat tone.  The elderly werewolf folded his arms, glaring at Stiles with the same look he’d started with.

Stiles felt lost.  

Of ALL people, Gregory Hale should be the one talking sense into his pack and family!  Sure, he wasn’t the Acting Alpha anymore, but his words still had value to the pack.  Hell, he still spoke at major world events, and worked fervently overseas to end the Helsing Hunters that kept kidnapping and torturing the werewolves of Eastern Europe and Russia.

Gregory was as noble as they came, and yet here he was...  Telling Stiles that he was okay to be a Hale?!

“Sir-...  I...  I mean Pepaw, “ Stiles said, correcting himself as Gregory growled at the “sir” again.  “I’m not going to say anything bad if you guys reject me!   No going to the media, no causing a fuss, it’s fine!” he exclaimed.

“Son, are you arguing with me?  I don’t take sass,” Gregory said, cutting Stiles (and most of Stiles’ blood pressure) off.  

Blabbering out some sort of unintelligible garble, Stiles tried to communicate through his waving hands.  Which was quite ineffective.

Gregory shook his head.  “Stiles, let me be very frank about something.  You can listen all day long to my heart if you need to, but what I’m telling you is the God’s honest truth,” he said, standing up, and towering over Stiles’ figure.  “Nobody in our family, especially me, gives two shits about Blood and Blood Status.  The people that do care about it, and think that cute little Pears like yourself are “tainted”?  They’ve got their heads so far up their asses that all they’re worth is shit anyway,” he exclaimed.

There were no lies in his words, and Stiles felt his chest convulse throughout his body.

“Son, do you like Derek?  Do you think he’s a suitable bond-mate?  You’ve gone to school with him since you were both in Kindergarten, so I assume you have some opinion of him,” Gregory asked.

Stiles felt a twitch in his stomach.  A worming, fluttering feeling, mixed with the scent of arousal.  

“Would you be be bonding with him right now, if you didn’t worry about all this Blood nonsense?  Answer me, son,” Gregory said, with a gentle nudge to Stiles’ leg.

Picturing Derek, smiling, happy, amazing Derek?  Picturing him with all his friends, his family, his pack!?  The possible future?!  A happy future?!  A future where he wasn’t the miserable little Tainted Omega that nobody wanted to do anything with!?

Stiles felt his fangs pop out, in an aggravated shift.

“Yes!” Stiles finally blurted out, as his stomach went cold with shame.  He’d finally admitted it.  Anger made him do it.  Anger and frustration, but at what cost to his reputation?  

Once more, Gregory’s face turned soft.

“So, unless there’s a goddamn good reason why my Grandson shouldn’t be able to bond with you, and that reason better not be “because I’m not good enough”, then consider yourself having Pepaw’s blessing on this relationship.  If that’s what it takes for you to feel comfortable to be with Derek, then you’ve got it,” Gregory said, in a tone of absolute finality.  

Having lost all of his breath, Stiles just sort of stared at Gregory, in disbelief.  

“You understand, pup?  I give you, for what it’s worth, my blessing to date my grandson.  I give you my blessing to become a part of the Hale pack, and extend that invitation to your parents, should they want to accept too.  I’m not Acting Alpha, but my daughter agrees and supports me on this.  We want wonderful people like yourself, and like Mr. and Mrs. Stilinski in our family.  You got it, pup?” Gregory asked, holding Stiles’ hands and shaking them.  “We.  Want.  You.  Derek.  Wants.  You,” he said, to make each point hit home.

Nodding quietly, Stiles felt shamed.  He closed his eyes, dropping his head.  Sure, he felt a little relief, but...  In the end, he knew that-

“Hey!  None of that!” Gregory said.

Shooting his eyes open, Stiles felt the Alpha wrap his arms around Stiles, practically engulfing him with warmth, and a deep scent of love.  The kind of love he smelled when his mom always bragged on him for his report cards, or the kind of love when he and his dad would stay up late after John’s latest shift, drinking coffee and watching TV Land.  

Gregory swung Stiles around in a bear hug.  “You’re a fine young man that I’m proud to know, and now you’ve got my scent ALL over you,” he said, rubbing his cheek next to Stiles’.  “So if anyone ever gives you shit, you let them know that Pepaw will end them.  Because you’re my little Pear that I know’s going to give me the cutest great-grandbabies someday!  Or not, it doesn’t matter, because in the end, you’re my grandpup now, and I take my family very seriously!,” he announced playfully.

Feeling his face flush, Stiles felt a secondary panic set in.  Because Gregory Hale...  THE Gregory Hale wanted him, the worthless Stiles Stilinski as family.

After setting Stiles down (though not before scenting him to death), Gregory checked his watch.

“So...  Unless you’ve got anything else to argue with Pepaw over, Derek will be here tonight to take you out at 6:00.  Unless you object, he’s also going to stay the night here at your home, so the two of you can catch up on things.  Then, tomorrow, you’ll come to our place for dinner, to meet the pack, and we’ll go on a nice midnight run together on the full moon,” Gregory said, with a happy smile.

“Stiles would adore that!” Claudia said, as she finally stepped in, helping Stiles stay level on the floor.  “He’s never done a midnight run before.  Well, John and I have taken him camping on the full moon before, but it’s probably not the same without a werewolf pack to run with,” she said.

Gregory nodded.  “Oh, it’s not,” he said, chuckling.  “Especially with our pack.  Derek and Laura already have a bunch of kids their age adding to our ranks, so it’s always one big game of tag all night long,” he explained.

“That will be lovely,” John said, standing on the opposite site of Stiles, clapping him on the shoulder.  “And Derek is welcome here anytime.  So long as he and Stiles do...  “It” safely, we’re fine with that too.  Stiles WILL be going to college,” he replied firmly.

Nodding, Gregory chuckled.  “Believe you me, all of our 18-year-old pups are on contraceptives.  Well, I think anyway...  I hear our little trio of polybonded mates might have gotten a little ahead of themselves,” he said, with an exasperated sight..  

He turned to Stiles one last time, and winked at him.  “Have fun tonight, Stiles.  Quit worrying about blood, about status, and about what other people think.  Worry more about your own heart, and the hearts of the people you love and care for.  That’s what led me to where I am today.  You’re a special young man, and I’m proud to have you as part of my family,” Gregory said, ruffling Stiles’ hair one last time before turning away.  “John, Claudia, a pleasure.  I’m sure I’ll be seeing the both of you around very shortly!  Until then,” he said, bowing to Stiles’ parents before taking his own leave through the front door.

Stiles stood shocked, in awe, and somehow..  Even more nervous than before.  Which his parents must have picked up on, as they swarmed around him.

“Talia said that desperate times call for desperate measures...” Claudia said, kissing Stiles on the forehead.  “I hope you didn’t mind.  After last night, she called her father and had him come in from a Seattle conference to speak with you so that you knew they really didn’t care about all this blood nonsense,” she said.

John pulled Stiles into a deep hug, patting him firmly on the back.  “Kiddo, there’s nothing wrong with you, okay?  Absolutely nothing wrong with you.  I couldn’t be more proud of the son I have in front of me.  Don’t you forget that,” he said, in an emotionally charged hiccup.  

Stiles gulped quietly, hugging his mother and father back.  He loved them dearly, and knew they meant every word, but then...  They were humans.  They didn’t know about were-things, or the culture he came from and lived in.  Of course they’d be proud of him, and of course they’d love him and think he was special.  Hell, they were his parents, they were obliged to think that.

Though...

First Alec?  Then Talia?  Not to mention Gregory?   All of the leaders of the Hale family, and paragons of the werewolf community, saying he was worth something?  

That Gregory Hale personally gave him his blessing?  

All while none of them had lied in the slightest?

Perhaps...  If only for a moment, Stiles allowed himself to think about his date with Derek that night, and maybe even what it might be like to kiss him on the lips.

+++++

By the time 6:00 rolled around, Stiles had all but worn a thread in the carpet from pacing back and forth.  

After showering three times, re-styling his hair nine times, trying on everything in his closet, and trying to think of all the wittiest jokes he had in his arsenal, he’d worked himself into a panic.  

“I’m going on a date with Derek Hale.  Then Derek Hale is coming back to my house, where we will probably stay up all night talking.  Or kissing?  Or...  Or “playing checkers”,” Stiles thought, as more color drained from his face.  

“Oh my God!” Stiles shrieked, covering his face as he fell down into the living room couch.

John glanced up from a case file he’d brought home from work.  “What?” he asked.

Claudia joined them, entering the living room with a plate of brownies and a thick book under her arms.  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

Stiles shook his head.  “Derek’s gonna see me naked!  Nobody’s seen me naked!  I’m a freaking lighthouse of white!  I have no muscles!  My ass is literally one big bone, with zero cushion for sex!  I will chafe his dick!  Nobody should see me naked!   I don’t even like seeing me naked!” he shouted, groaning pitifully into his hands.

“Wow.  I could have lived without that knowledge about my son,” John muttered, while Claudia came by and smacked him on the head.

Claudia rolled her eyes.  “Stiles, just take a deep breath and...  Enjoy your evening!   Do bonding things, get to know each other, and enjoy your young romance.  Let things happen naturally, and make sure to use plenty of lubrication.  It’ll help with the chafing,” she added at the end, with a curved smile.

Stiles and John groaned simultaneously.

After a few minutes of casual conversation, the front door rang loudly in the home.  Sparks shot up Stiles’ spine, and he tripped over his feet and onto the floor as he stood up to answer the door.

Scrambling up, Stiles hopped over, opening the front door, and...

Gazing into possibly the most attractive person he’d ever met.  

Standing in a white sweatshirt and ruby-red vest, Derek had pulled down the collar enough to proudly show off his Bonding Mark.  He’d shaved off his stubbly beard, put in a diamond stud earring in both ears, and wore a pair of tight-fitting jeans.  The scent of cologne (a brand similar to Stiles’) wafted and hit Stiles, which made his heart race.

Though the sweetest sight of all was a bouquet of roses, which smelled fresh and natural, and of the Hale pack.  

“St...  Stiles,” Derek said, smiling wide enough to show off his cute bunny teeth, and allow Stiles to smell the over-abundance of mouthwash he must of used.  “Here...  They’re from our family garden my mom and grandma planted years ago,” he explained.

Taking the roses in his hands, Stiles felt his chest thump as he smelled the fragrant aroma.  He looked up, just unable to take his eyes off Derek.  Because that?  That right there?  He could seriously have that?  Gregory Hale was completely okay with him having that?

How the fucking hell did he deserve all of...  That?!

Really though?  The big kicker?  

Even though Derek had tried to hide behind the cologne and mouthwash, Stiles could still smell the abundance of arousal on Derek’s body.  Like a fine musk, escaping in little pockets of air that couldn’t be hidden.

“Oh my God...  He actually wants me?!  He’s seriously sexually attracted to...  THIS?!” Stiles thought to himself, clutching the roses even tighter.  

“D..  Derek, hi,” Stiles mumbled out, already trying to hold back the scent of his own arousal.  Thankfully, he’d all but bathed in his own cologne.

“You must be Derek!” Claudia said, stepping in between the boys, and dropping her jaw at the sight.  “My goodness, you’re so handsome!  Oh, and so sweet!” she said, taking the flowers from Stiles.  “I’ll put these in water for you, and stick them in your room.  Why don’t you two run along, the night is young!” she explained, mercifully ending the front door awkwardness, as she pushed them outside.

On the front porch of his home, Stiles walked alongside Derek, and flinched when the Alpha took his hand.  Though Stiles slowly relaxed into it, as their fingers intertwined while they walked.  

“I uh...  I am so sorry how we met.  I did not mean to break your face, I swear to God!” Derek muttered, laughing nervously as he gulped.

Stiles felt his glasses slowly fog up, and he shook his head.  “It’s fine, Derek, really.  All healed, see?” he said, pointing to his face.

“Good!  Your face is too pretty to look like that,” Derek said, chuckling a little more loudly than was probably acceptable.

Flushing, Stiles dropped his head as they both reached Derek’s sleek black Camaro.  

Derek guided Stiles to the passenger door, but found it difficult to let of Stiles’ hand while he opened it.  Yet, with one last clutch, Derek did let go, and allow Stiles to slowly sink into the leather interior.  

Like a bullet, Derek was off, and inside the driver’s side, sitting back in his own seat, and carefully adjusting his mirror.

“You uh...  You like Chinese?  Madam Wu’s is fantastic, and my mom gave us money to pig out on.  We can get like, six meals and split everything!” Derek said, biting his bottom lip and still stealing several stares Stiles’ way.

Stiles nodded.  “That sounds great, I love chinese,” he answered with a soft smile.  He also tried to steal a few glances at Derek.  Mostly at the rather large something in his pants, which hadn’t gone down since the moment he’d opened the door.  

“Awesome....  That’s awesome,” Derek said, as his attention wandered to Stiles’ eyes, admiring the soft golden glow.

Sitting in an awkward silence, they both took in each other’s features, as pockets of arousal (instinct, love it or leave it!) kept spurting out of each of them.

Only when the front porch light started flickering (John) did they come to their senses, shaking off and laughing nervously at each other.  

Derek revved the vehicle to life, as they both slowly pulled on their seatbelts.

“Hey Stiles?” Derek asked, dropping his head..

“Yeah?” Stiles said, piquing his ears up at Derek’s Fall Out Boy CD, blaring Thanks for the Memories.  Which, was definitely in Stiles’ top 10 songs of all time.

Tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, Derek cleared his throat.  “Uh..  Mom told me about why you ran off, and...  About the...  Tainted thing.  About how you didn’t want to go out with me because you thought...  That you weren’t good enough,” he whispered.

Stiles’ heart sank.  Was this it?  Was this FINALLY the moment when a Hale would drop the ball?  When someone would finally put his worthless ass in its place?!  

“Y...  Yeah?” Stiles asked, with one hand on the seat belt, ready to get out and leave if need be.

“I think you’re crazy,” Derek said, shaking his head in dismay.  Arousal soon became replaced with scents of sorrow, of sadness, and...  Fear.  All coming from Derek in droves.  “Stiles, I look at you, and I see my soulmate.  I see us getting to know each other, and making love, and becoming a pack, and us finding out exactly why some higher being predestined us to being the perfect match,” he said, peeking up and letting his warm red eyes sooth Stiles’ panic.  “I see kids someday, a lot of kids, and a wedding, and our families, and...  It’s beautiful.  You’re beautiful, and...  I just..  You’re not Tainted, okay?  To me, you’re my future, and all I hope and dream for.  You’re my family, and that could never be anything but the most wonderful thing in the world,” Derek explained.

Stiles’ heart skipped a beat.  His hand dropped from the seatbelt, and he soon found it in Derek’s.  Where they held onto each other tightly.

While all the things Derek had said were unbelievably kind, one comment stood out.

“You want a big family, too?” Stiles asked cautiously.  Was that really a possibility?  Being an only child to parents who couldn’t have kids of their own, and being a werewolf on top of that?  Well..  He’d always longed and panged for a large family.  Which he could get in the coming weeks after bonding, and then possibly again in the future?

Derek’s face lit up.  “Yes.  My Grandpa and Mom were always so busy, we never got to be a big family, and Cora was the best accident ever, so...  Yeah.  I want a big family.  That’s why all mine and my twin’s friends are pack now, so they can live with us and become family too,” he exclaimed.

“Your grandpa...  He said he wanted my folks to live with you guys too.  I uh...  I know they’re human, but they’re my parents that took me in.  I..  I love them like crazy, so...  They’d come too,” Stiles said, instantly.  Beacause...  Could this actually, really, truly be happening?

“That’s awesome,” Derek said, flashing his teeth again in uncontainable excitement.  “You’re...  You’re awesome,” he said, as he closed his eyes and leaned over the middle console.

Stiles felt Derek’s lips crash against his, and he closed his eyes tightly.  The warmth spread out through his lips, down his throat, into his heart, and cascaded down his body like a waterfall.  Each and every second that their lips locked, Stiles felt...  

Loved.

If only for a moment, Stiles let everything else but that feeling vacate his body.  He’d worry about making himself better for the Hales later.  He’d worry about embarrassing them in public later.  He’d worry about what the tabloids were going to say later.  He’d worry about what the kids at school would say later.  

He'd also have to remember ask why Pepaw kept calling him "Pear", because that really was an odd term of affection.

For then, for that moment, he’d enjoy himself.

As Derek pulled away from their first kiss, they both slowly panted for breath, their eyes blown out and brands glowing softly red in the dark.

“You uh...  You ready to eat?” Derek asked, turning away and trying not to let his over excitement about his mate get the better of him.  

Which, he failed at, as he backed his Camaro up, narrowly missing a tree, three trash cans, and Mrs. Huddleston’s cat.

**  
  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grandpa Hale was having NONE of that Angsty Teenage Bullshit, and Talia wasn't either! :) So now Stiles is off to his first Date with Derek! While maybe he's not 100% confident in himself, he'd got a crack in that shell now, at least. Time to chip that armor off in the coming chapters!
> 
> Thanks so much for all of the kudos, support, and comments! I love reading what you have to say on the story, and please continue to let me know how you feel! 7 more chapters to go, and a lot more to story to tell!


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles learned a lot during his dinner with Derek.

For one, they both had near-identical tastes in music, with the exception of Derek’s horrific love of 90’s pop, or Stiles’ obsession with Celine Dion.  Stiles loved winter, but Derek loved summer.  Though both for the same reason of loving the season in order to spend time with their friends and family outside in the beautiful weather.  While Derek wasn’t much of a reader (to Stiles’ dismay), they both bonded over the love (and mutual crushes) over Dr. Spencer Reed on Criminal Minds.  

They also learned that, combined, the two of them could eat through 10 dinner meals at Madam Wu’s, and potentially put the owner’s kids through college if they ate there once a week.

After Derek picked up the check (leaving their conversation only when they’d been kicked out at 9:00, at closing time), they quickly ran next door to the ice cream parlor, where they picked up a massive waffle cone and decided to continue their date in the great outdoors.

They laughed in unison as they stepped outside the shop, both licking long strips into their respective flavors, as they walked to the nearby park.  Darkness has just started to fall across the sky, as the world became shrouded in a twinkling twilight of light blue, and the almost full-moon looming overhead.

Derek took a large bite out of his chocolate swirl, snorting through his nose while listening to Stiles.

“...so my Aunt Shelia basically spilled the entire Thanksgiving dressing on top of my dad, and scalded the fuck out of him!  I mean, all of my family knows I’m a werewolf by that time, except for a few of the little kids, so I didn’t think anything of this, bear in mind!  So, anyway, I went over to help drain some of the pain from my dad while his burns healed, and all those black veins popped up on my arm and face.  Without missing a beat, my five-year-old cousin Jack screamed, “STILES IS A ZOMBIE, MAMA!”, and ran out of the house screaming bloody murder,” Stiles said, pausing to lick on his strawberry swirled cone.  

Plopping down on a park bench next to Stiles, Derek barked out a loud laugh, shaking his head.  “Oh...  Oh my God...  That’s.. That’s funny, and a little sad,” he said, quickly lapping around his hand to stop his cone from melting.

Stiles huffed.  “Yeah, Jack didn’t come near for years after that.  It was only when we were both 9 and he needed me to get the frisbee off the roof.  So I half-shifted and climbed up Aunt Sheila's house, and was the coolest kid in the family after that.  Still am!” he said, thumping his hand against his chest, laughing.

“Wow,” Derek said, casually throwing his arm around Stiles’ shoulders.  He pulled himself closer, and Stiles flushed a little at the closeness.  “So living with humans...  Never would have thought of it so carefree like that,” he said, returning to his cone.

Taking a deep breath, Stiles downed half his cone before he leaned against Derek’s shoulder.  “I mean...  It’s different,” he said, with his mouth half-full.  “...but I love my family.  They’re my pack, even if they’re not technically one.  I mean, there’s zero scenting, nobody’s as carefree with the touchy-feely, and full moons suck ass without anyone to run with, but...  Yeah, I love ‘em.  Still, always wondered what being in a pack was like...  You know?” he said, smiling fondly.

“You’re part of our pack now, Stiles, you don’t have to wonder anymore, and you can have both,” Derek said warmly, as he offered up a section of his ice cream to Stiles.  “A human family to love, and a pack family to share everything with,” he said.

Flushing, Stiles gnawed a part of Derek’s ice cream, while also offering Derek a bite of his own.  To which, Derek took his own bite, sighing contently at the sweet flavor.  They finished off each other’s dessert, and slowly snuggled closer to each other in the brisk air.

“Did you enjoy the date?” Derek asked, quietly.

Smiling, Stiles closed his eyes and took in a deep breath of his mate’s scent.  He didn’t know who predestined all of this mess, or why they’d put together such a noble, great guy like Derek with someone as lowly as Stiles, but...  Well, he’d owe them a favor later.

“Yeah,” Stiles whispered quietly.

Derek’s ears twitched happily, as he beamed.  “So...  Do you...  Do you really want to be my mate?  Can we...  Can we be...  Together?  Give this a real shot?” he asked, on bated breath.  

A gentle warmth spread in Stiles’ chest.  Yet, he still felt a cold pit clashing against it in his stomach.  

Did he want to be?  Yes!  

Should he be?  

Well...  Grandpa Hale had given his blessing, but...  Would all the Hales feel the same way?  Would the neighborhood, their town, or the media feel the same way?   There was more to think about than just his heart, and that kind of longing.  Because he did care about Derek now, and cared about Gregory, Talia, and Alec too, he couldn’t bare the thought of hurting them.  Of anyone to think ill of them because he'd become part of their family.

Catching the scent of worry on Stiles, Derek rubbed his cheek on Stiles, and quickly pecking a kiss on Stiles’ nose.  With his hands, Derek slowly rubbed circles into Stiles’ knee.  

“Stiles...  I want YOU as my mate.  Not your blood, your blood means shit.  After being with you tonight, I’m even more attracted to you than I already was.  I...  I can see why we’re meant for each other, you know?” Derek purred, pressing a wet, rough kiss on Stiles’ neck.

Hitching his breath, Stiles felt a fire tear through his body.  The cold and worry subsided, momentarily, as Stiles let a smile form naturally on his face.

Derek lifted his head up, breath heavy and warm on the nape of Stiles’ moistened neck.  “You’re...  You’re so smart, Stiles...  You’re gorgeous, and witty, and..  God, you...  You’re...  You’re perfect,” he said deeply, as he trailed more kisses up and down Stiles’ neck.

VERY appreciate of Derek’s enthusiasm, Stiles exposed his neck further, feeling his own body react naturally to his mate’s fabric-stressed erection slowly rub against his side.  A gentle wetness gathered deep within Stiles’ lower torso, and he could feel the urge to...  

Well, to mate.  To claim Derek, and for Derek to claim him.  For their bond to strengthen, for their relationship to grow, and to start what Stiles had always wanted in his life.  Start a family, start a pack, and start a new life for himself.

"Stiles...  Do you want us?  Want us to continue?  To be together?" Derek asked.

Stiles grinned brightly.  "Derek, I-"

“DEREK MOTHERFUCKING HALE, YOU PERVY DORK, EVERYONE CAN SEE YOUR BONER!” a loud voice yelled.

Both jumping at the roaring noise, Derek fell off the bench, smacking his head on the concrete, while Stiles yelped loudly, falling right on top of Derek, and possibly injuring the poor man with Stiles’ bony ass.

Glancing up, Stiles watched three men approach them from out of the nearby 7-11.  

The tallest (who’d been the one yelling), walked with a confident stride, his lean muscle and carefully styled blonde hair exemplifying his playful arrogance.  Stiles recognized him as Jackson Whittemore, one of the lacrosse stars of Beacon, and part of Derek Hale’s pack.  His glimmering blue eyes classified him as a Beta.

Just beside Jackson was Isaac Lahey, another lean, muscular Beta, with soft brown curls, a gentle face, and warm golden Omega eyes.  In his hands was possibly every snack that 7-11 carried, most of which were being pushed into his mouth all at once.  

Isaac stood between Jackson and third male, Scott McCall.  The red-eyed Alpha stood a good foot above both Isaac and Jackson, and gave Derek a run for his money when it came to muscle mass.  His warm tanned skin stood out against his paler companions, as well as his soft, wavy brunette hair.  

Derek helped Stiles to his feet, and patted them both off as the trio joined them.  

Trying to hide behind Derek, Stiles felt immediately awkward.  These were Derek’s best friends, and part of his pack that Stiles would probably be joining.  He really didn’t want to embarrass himself, or Derek, so Stiles dropped his head and stepped back as Derek strode forward, pulling all three into a massive hug.

“Me?  The pervy dork?!  From what Peter told me, you three were practically humping in the back of Finstock’s car on the way back to Scott’s place, but not before fucking in the showers when your poly-bond formed!” Derek said, grinning mischievously at all three of them.

Jackson scoffed.  “I wasn’t humping anyone,” he spat, glancing away.

Isaac snorted.  “No, you were the one screaming “FUCK ME HARD, YOU BASTARDS, I NEED A DICK IN ME!  I swear, you gave Finstock an aneurysm!” he exclaimed, in an over-dramatic fashion.

Derek and Scott laughed loudly, while Jackson snagged Isaac and held him in a headlock.

Off on his own, Stiles slowly took a seat down at the bench he’d been at moments earlier.  He’d just wait for Derek to finish, it probably wouldn’t take too long.  They probably wouldn’t want to deal with him, and he didn’t blame them, really.

“Guys, quit fooling around, I want you to meet my soulmate, Stiles!  Stiles, this is Jackson, Isaac, and Scott.  They’re my best friends, and just poly bonded together,” Derek said, spinning around and clapping his hand on Stiles’ shoulder.  He beamed proudly, from ear to ear.

Stiles immediately felt stress-kicked in the gut, meekly waving one hand their way.    “H..  Hi.  Congratulations on the polybond, that’s really rare, and you guys get to spend your lives to-”

Before he could finish, Stiles watched Scott McCall run up and shake Stiles’ hand firmly.  “Dude!  Fucking awesome!  Derek, do you realize you got the freaking smartest kid in school as your mate?!  Like, when he talked in Chemistry, my mind broke, and I’m like 5th in our class with grades,” he exclaimed, before pulling Stiles into an even firmer hug.  “Welcome to pack, bro!  You gonna run with us this week?!  Jackson always wusses out, and we’re always a wolf down on tag!” he asked excitedly.

“Oh my God!” Isaac shouted, his mouth full with gummy worms as he shoved his bag into Jackson’s hands.  He then pushed Scott out of the way and practically giggled with glee.  “GUYS!  THIS IS THE BADASS I WAS TALKING ABOUT!” he said, waving his arms at Stiles.  “The guy from Home Ec that got a 110% on the Baby project with me!?  The one who ACTUALLY had the balls to go watch a live male Omega birth at the hospital for the extra credit, AND who did all the dissections in biology?!  He’s the one who helped me get my grades up for Lacrosse!” he exploded, pulling Stiles into a hug and squeezing him by the neck.  “Dude, you are my new best friend!  If I’m knocked up and pregnant by these assholes, you’ve GOT to get me through it!  I forgot EVERYTHING I learned in Home Ec!” he shouted, speaking fervently.

Taken aback by the overwhelming passion on the part of his new packmates, Stiles could barely fathom a response.

“Oh, him,” Jackson muttered coldly.  He folded his arms, glaring up to Derek.  “Just an FYI, this is the guy that Greenburg jacks off to every night, thinking they’re going to be soulmates.  I think Matt’s got a few pictures of him too, in his “collection” of beautiful things.  Might want to correct them of that little...  Problem,” he said, huffing.

Stiles, Scott, and Isaac all cringed as they heard Derek growl, practically shifting in rage in the same way Alec had done the night before.  He then proceeded to grip the bench, denting the metal with his claws.

Jackson smirked.  “Cute.  Derek’s got a weakness now,” he said, walking over and patting Stiles on the head, who was still being  bear-hugged by Isaac.  “Welcome to the pack, Stiles.  Okay, cute introductions done, can we PLEASE get back to the house?  We’ve only got three more days off of school, and I’d like to spend it doing things that don’t involve us talking to Derek and his mate.  In fact, I’d like to keep the talking to less than three syllables,” he said, obviously off-put.

Finally freed from Isaac’s grip of death, Stiles took a deep breath, glancing incredulously at the trio.  They’d all...  They’d welcomed him into the pack, and all scented him in one way or another, with hugs, hair ruffling, or handshakes.  Sniffing his body, Stiles felt his stomach leap instinctively in joy.  Between Gregory, the trio, and Derek?  He...  He smelled like a pack.  Like an honest-to-God pack, and not just ANY pack, but...  The Hale pack.  His mate’s pack.

“Awww...  Jackie, I want to talk to Stiles some more!” Isaac whined, popping an entire Three Musketeers in his mouth.

Scott sighed, slapping himself in the face.  “Isaac, why are you eating like you’re pregnant!?  We don’t even fucking know yet, dork,” he exclaimed.

“He’s not.  I guess you’ve never seen him at the movies.  Bastard eats more than my sister and I combined,” Derek added colorfully.

Isaac stuck his tongue out, rolling his eyes.  “Whatever, assholes!” he said, brushing past the pack and hanging onto Stiles’ neck.  “They’re such dickholes.  We Omegas have to stick together.  Ooh!  I know, let’s threaten to cut off their sex source!  How about it, Stiles?” he said, winking jokingly.

Derek rolled his eyes.  “Sex isn’t everything, Lahey,” he counted, with a chuckled.

“Okay, no kisses or cuddles, then!” Isaac retorted, pulling Stiles down on the bench and offering the fellow Omega a Twix bar.  “Come on, Stiles, let’s just you and I go and pig out back at your place, watch a movie, and get to know each other!  I’ll give you all the dirt on Derek.  No Alphas allowed!  Or Betas!” he offered colorfully.  

To which, Stiles watched Derek (290 pounds of solid muscle Derek Hale) actually lose color in his face.  Watched this 18-year-old Adonis look as though he were five years old, and had his ice cream fall to the ground.  Watched this ferocious apex Alpha predator pout disappointedly, and appear crestfallen.

Stiles smelled Derek’s crushed heart.  As did the rest of his pack.

“Oh...  Oh my God, Isaac, you actually devastated Derek!  Holy fucking shit, I think he’s going to cry!” Scott said, dropping his jaw in disbelief.

Jackson fell to the ground, losing his shit in a fit of laughter.  

Derek flushed red.  “Shut up!” he exclaimed, moving over to the bench and standing awkwardly over Stiles.  “You...  You don’t actually...  I mean...  We were going back to your house...  And...  Disney movies...  Rem..  Remember?” he asked, genuinely fearful.  

“DISNEY MOVIES?  OH MY GOD, MY ALPHA IS THE BIGGEST NERD EVER,” Jackson screeched, choking on air as he curled into a ball.

Snagging one of Isaac’s candy bars, Derek threw it, smacking Jackson dead-on in the head with it.  A low “OW” echoed in the distance.  He turned back to Stiles, trying a weak smile.  “So uh...  Yeah..  Can...  Can we go?  Is that still okay?” Derek asked.

Speechless, and frankly overwhelmed by the back bonding, and Derek’s genuine care, Stiles barely could respond until he felt Isaac slap him on the ass.

“Go on, tiger, have fun,” Isaac said, before rolling his eyes at Derek.  “I was just kidding, jeez, you looked like I just ran over your puppy with a combine,” he exclaimed, already grabbing a bag of twizzlers and attacking them violently with his teeth.

Up on his feet, Stiles clenched Derek’s hand tightly in his own, as they walked side by side, nearly inseparable from one and other.

 

+++++

 

Stiles thanked all the Gods that he was a generally tidy person.  There weren’t any embarrassing dirty sheets, trash, or even much in the way of laundry in his bedroom.

No, they could go straight to turning on a movie, throwing open the window curtains to let the moonlight sink in the room, and finally settling neck to one and other on Stiles’ bed.  Derek sat up against the headboard, while Stiles had laid down on his lap, using Derek’s chest as a pillow.  

Derek had stripped off his vest (leaving on his sweatshirt), while Stiles went down to just a t-shirt, but they’d been (up until that point) relatively well-clothed while they watched a marathon of Disney movies they’d both grown up as kids loving.   

Things had been...  Chaste.  Sure, Derek would rub his hands up and down Stiles’ side and arms, they’d playfully move their feet together, and Stiles would gently scent and rub against Derek’s clothed chest, but...  That’s all they’d “done”.

Though halfway through Aladdin, and as the clock turned over to 2 AM, Stiles yawned loudly

“Tired?” Derek asked, yawning loudly himself, revealing his large fangs.

Without even thinking, Stiles nodding, snuffling through his nose and closing his eyes.  “Yeah...  I’m ready for bed,” he muttered quietly.

“Okay.  We can sleep in tomorrow, since it’s so late.  Come on, up we go, let’s get more comfortable,” Derek said, innocently.

Which shot Stiles’ eyes open, and woke him up better than a splash of cold water.  Because he felt Derek slowly stand up, moving across Stiles’ room and stopping at the desk where he’d laid his vest at.  

Then, before he knew it, Derek was peeling off his sweatshirt.  Completely naked from the top, Stiles watched the man scratch his hairy chest, and gently rub down his midsection, down a particularly furry happy trail.  Like a model, Derek was the epitome of Alpha, with massive pecs, and a solid washboard set of abs.

Then came the belt, being pulled off and thrown carelessly to the floor.  

Derek reached for his buttons on his jeans, unfastening them and letting them drop to the floor.  His firm, skull-crushing thighs and legs were well toned from years of bodywork and lacrosse matches between the best werewolf high schools in California.  

Standing in just a pair of black boxer briefs, Derek turned around, and quickly flushed, turning away from Stiles.  “Oh...  Oh fuck, I didn’t even...  I just...  I mean...  I usually...  You know, don’t sleep...  In...  Jeans and a shirt, so I just...  Was I...  Is this too...  Fuck,” he mumbled, absentmindedly covering his erect junk, straining against the fabric.

Glancing down, Stiles cleared his throat.  “You can...  I mean...  I’m okay with...  That,” he said, feeling his heart and head thud loudly in unison.  “You look...  Really really good, by the way,” he blurted out at the end, practically slapping his instinct-driven brain upside the head.

Clearing his throat, Derek nodded.  “Oh, uh...  Good...  I uh..  I’ll get the lights,” he said, flipping off the lightswitch, and stubbing his toe on the desk when he walked back.  

The room, unsurprisingly, stayed well lit from the moon hanging just outside Stiles’ windows.  Stiles could still make out Derek’s figure, his skin dotted with shadows from his blinds blocking the moon’s light.  That, and Derek’s glowing red eyes were easy enough to follow, as he made his way back to the bed.

Yet, he stood over Stiles, waiting patiently with a soft smile.  Bending down on his knees, he put his hands on Stiles’ hips.

“Can I...  Help you get comfortable?” Derek asked, with a warm, excited showing of his teeth.

Heat rose in Stiles’ stomach.  

 _“No!  No!  No!  He’s going to see you naked!  You’re not good enough for him!”_ Stiles heard himself screaming mentally.

Yet...  Something in the way Derek looked at him, something in how Derek gently massaged Stiles’ hips, and maybe it was the fact that Derek was purring in pleasure at being that close that made Stiles nod his head.

"Y...  Yes," Stiles muttered quietly.

Taking things slowly, Derek stood back up, putting his fingers under Stiles’ t-shirt and slowly lifting it off Stiles’ body.  He revealed a slim, muscle-free body with only the slightest of cushion around him.  A little muscle gathered in his arms and shoulders, from the work on the farm, but his pale upper torso?   

 _“Disgusting,”_ Stiles thought.

“It’s like moonlight, your skin...  God, and you’re so...  So tender,” Derek purred warmly, pressing gentle kisses on Stiles’ stomach, chest, and navel.  The Alpha tossed Stiles’ shirt across the room, and climbed on top of the bed, and on top of Stiles.  He pressed his nose to Stiles’ chest, taking a deep breath and sighing contentedly.

Gasping quietly, Stiles bucked up into Derek’s touch.  The Alpha’s lips traveled over Stiles’ chest, pressing soft kiss after soft kiss.

In the same time, Derek’s hands fiddled with Stiles’ belt and pants.  He rose up, breaking a kiss in order to back off Stiles.  Slowly, he rolled Stiles’ pants off him, leaving Stiles in just a pair of loose fitting checkerboard boxer that hung off his skinny hips.

“Pathetic,” Stiles thought, watching his lanky legs fall out of his jeans, and back onto the bed.  Even worse was his bony, non existent ass.  Probably the least attractive quality to have in an Omega, and Stiles had it.

“Amazing....  God...  You’re amazing.  You’re so graceful, like a swan, with those legs,” Derek said, pinning his body on top of Stiles, and burying himself in the Omega’s neck.  He ran his hands up and down Stiles’ back, wrapping Stiles in a warm hug.

Stiles took in a deep breath, and listened ever so carefully to Derek’s heart.

Arousal.  Adoration.  Excitement.  Joy.  These scents came out of Derek, flowing into a soft, floral scent that covered the room.

A steady, excited, overjoyed heart rate rumbled in Derek’s chest.

Stiles felt his own chest thump in joy.

 _“He...  He wants me.  He’s not lying...  I...  He's stupid to want this, but he's not lying!"_  Stiles thought to himself, forcing back a set of happy tears.

“Stiles?!” Derek asked, coming up for air, and gently pushing off his mate.  “Did I...  Was I doing something too much!?  I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, breathy, and genuinely apologetic.

Laughing as a set of tears formed in his eyes, Stiles threw his arms around Derek.  “No...  No, you’re...  You’re just too much...  You’re more than I ever wanted, Derek, tha..  Thank you,” he blurted out, pulling the Alpha back down.  

So perhaps crying during his first makeout session wasn’t the best way to end a first date, but for Stiles?  Well fuck, they were happy tears, so sue him.

They collapsed into one and other.  Touching, kissing, rubbing, scenting, crying, and caressing all in one.  They stayed clothed in their underwear, and slowly rocked each other into a warm slumber in between sweet, loving words spoken in between the moments their mouths weren’t otherwise occupied.

Stiles would sleep soundly that night as a little spoon, as his loving mate warded off any nightmares or fears he might otherwise even dream of thinking about.

 


	5. Chapter 5

_“Derek, calm down!” a woman exclaimed._

_“How can I be fine?!  Did you READ that bastard’s post?!  It’s all over the goddamn school, I want his BLOOD!” Derek shouted, in a near roar._

_“It’s just a Crawford, Derek.  Nobody takes Deucalion or Aiden seriously,” a second woman counted, in a much calmer voice._

 

A loud argument downstairs stirred Stiles awake.  Sitting up in his bed, Stiles rubbed the sleep from his eyes, yawning loudly.  As he recalled the events of the night prior, Stiles blushed vibrantly.

 _“Oh my God...  I...  Did I seriously?”_ Stiles asked himself, glancing down.  

All around his neck, chest, thighs, and stomach, he’d been marked up.  Derek had ravished the fuck out of him, and his body was a testament to the love his dorky Alpha could deal out.  Gentle purple hickies, which failed to heal thanks to Stiles’ lackluster ability, covered every inch of his pale skin.

Which...  Was a pale comparison to what Stiles had dealt out the night before.  Vision of him nibbling on Derek’s neck, while they dry-rubbed against each other came back into his mind.

Covering his face, Stiles let out a gentle meep.

 _“What was I thinking?!  Oh my God...  I...  Did I?  But it...”_ Stiles thought to himself.  Gentle worries tried to form inside his mind, all pushed away but the passionate admissions of love Derek had whispered in his ear all night.  The praises of Stiles’ body, his mind, his heart, and just about every aspect.  Stiles’ heart flipped over and back, with a contentment of being praised.

_“I AM NOT GOING TO LET HIM GET AWAY WITH THAT!  I’M CALLING BOYD AND SCOTT, AND WE’RE GOING TO BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF THEM!” Derek roared._

Stiles felt a shiver down his spine, and his brand ached quietly on his neck.

“Derek?” Stiles whispered, scrambling out of bed and finding the clothes he’d worn the night before, pulling them on as quickly as he could manage.  While both of his parents were at work, he apparently had guests that would probably not appreciate seeing him half-naked.

 

_“What good would that do you, Derek?  You’d sink to their level.  Even if you had cause for it, with them insulting your mate, you’d practically be proving to humans that we’re nothing but animalistic beasts.  You know, the stereotype your family has been fighting for generations to end?  The thing that still lets the Helsing family hunt down and murder our kind in Eastern Europe?  Be the bigger man,”   the calm woman said, in a no-nonsense tone._

_“Lyd is right.  Derek, did you see the comment thread?  Practically everyone blasted him to hell for being a bigoted Bloodist.  Your mother is fuming, and already making calls,” the more excitable one exclaimed._

 

Stepping out of his room, Stiles pulled on his white t-shirt and made his way down the staircase.

Standing in the living room was a half-shifted Derek, growling through a pair of massive fangs in his mouth.  Beside him were two women that Stiles recognized from school, both of them displaying a prominent rose-vine brand mark on their arms, trailing up and down their left arms.

The first, a flaming, petite redhead with a soft golden tan stood with her arms folded.  In what Stiles believed to be a $200 outfit, easily, she stood with shimmering blue eyes and a no-nonsense atmosphere about her.  This was Lydia Martin, Stiles’ rival for Valedictorian, but the one who could shame him any day in physics.  Despite her small figure, the woman was a legend on the school’s track team, and of the Martin Noble Bloodline, friends of the Hales since Lorraine Martin acted as Gregory Hale’s personal adjunct during the lift of the Supernatural Curtain.

The other, a dark brunette with a towering height and muscular build, stood in a more practical leather ensemble, as if ready to enter into combat any moment.  This was Allison Argent, a common blood in the region.  Her family had once stood with the Helsing Family in ancient times, only to break ties with them when her great-great-grandmother, Kate Argent, became bitten and subsequently infected the rest of the Argent Family in the early 1900s.  Fleeing to America, they took shelter with the Hale family, who guarded them from the Helsings, ready and willing to dispose of “such a horrific threat of hunters turned beast”.  Over the centuries, they broke with the Hunter’s mentality, and became a common bloodline, swearing loyalty to the Hales.

Stiles paused at such an overwhelming force that both women radiated.  Lydia, as the brilliant mind of the Hale Pack, and Allison as the sword of the Hale Pack.  Without a doubt, he was looking at two of the most intimidating youths of his time.

“H...  Hi?” Stiles asked, watching as all three of the Hale pack shot him a sympathetic look.

Derek looked away, growling as he slammed a fist into the wall, shaking most of the room’s knick-knacks.

Allison stuffed her hands inside her pockets, biting her bottom lip.

Lydia, however, took a deep breath, plastered on a smile, and walked straight up to Stiles.  She stood a good foot smaller than him, but Stiles still somehow managed to feel small as compared to her.

“Hello, Stiles.  I’m pretty sure you know who we are, but...  I’m Lydia, and that’s my fiance, Allison.  Nice to meet you, and welcome to the pack,” Lydia said, pecking a gentle kiss on Stiles’ face, scenting him in the process.

Nodding, Stiles smiled.  “Hey, thanks,” he said, surprised, again, that someone like Lydia Martin would welcome him so quickly.

Though her gentle smile faded, into a serious glare.  “I won’t beat around the bush.  Last night, about 11 PM, Aiden Crawford made a post on Facebook that ripped you pretty bad,” Lydia said, pulling a smartphone out of her pocket and pulling open one of her apps.

Stiles’ face drained, his heart sinking.  Hell, it felt like Winter in his home, and he instinctively folded his arms for warmth.

“Lydia!” Allison exclaimed, exasperated.

“Could you have ANY tact?!” Derek spat out, growling still in his half-shift.

Lydia rolled her eyes.  “It does nobody any good to lie about this, or sugar coat it.  It’s out there, and Stiles deserves to know.  I’d rather him found out from his pack than anyone else,” she explained.  Holding the phone out, she allowed Stiles to take the phone.

 

_Aiden Crawford:  Now I’ve seen everything.  A noble like Derek Hale dating this taint bitch omega?  Fucking hell, this world is going to shit.  Does that bitch not know his place?  The Hales are practically just begging for their bloodline to be ruined with runt after runt._

_(3 Likes, 140 Comments)_

 

Stiles felt his eyes go wide.  There, on the internet, was a picture of him and Derek out on the picnic bench in the park.  Where he and Derek were practically laying on top of each other, holding hands and looking...  Well, like a beautiful couple.

 _“See what you did?  What did I tell you?!”_ Stiles thought to himself, as he dropped his head.

He knew it.  He knew it, but he'd still dared to hope nobody would care.  Of course they'd care.  

“Derek, I am..  I’m so sorry...  I didn't mean to do this to-”

“Read the comments, Stiles.  Trust me,” Lydia said, cutting Stiles off.

Stiles shook his head.  “I really don’t want to...  I get it...  I mean...  I get where he’s-”

“Read the damn comments, Stiles,” Lydia said, forcefully.  Her tone was not to be crossed, as she grabbed Stiles by his collar, and shoved him down on the couch.  Taking a seat next to him, Lydia pressed the button that led to the comments section.  “Before you think that Aiden Crawford is worth worrying about, take a look at what everyone else in school and in town is saying.  Because I don't know what's in that head of yours, but you are NOT the bad guy here,” she ordered.

Glancing over to Derek, Stiles watched his mate’s crushed face slowly shift human.  Plopping down on Stiles’ opposite side, he felt Derek gently put his hand on Stiles’ back, rubbing soft circles.

“She’s right, Stiles.  Read them.  It’ll show you how people really feel about this,” Derek offered with a warm smile.

Allison took a seat on the ground in front of Stiles, beaming.  “He’s right!  I know you’re all worried about this blood shit, but really, you’re like one of the only ones who worries about it!  Read!” she said, patting Stiles on the knee.  Like Lydia, Allison added her own scent to Stiles’ body.

Exchanging looks with the three, Stiles finally took a deep breath and glanced over the comments.   His eyes went wide.

  
  


_Ethan Crawford:  Really?  Guys, seriously, don’t lump me in with my brother, he’s a douche._

_Deucalion Crawford:  Don’t insult your brother for speaking the truth.  Proud of you, Aiden._

_Ethan Crawford:  Don’t lump me in with my father either.  Ew, dad, ew.  I’m staying at Danny’s tonight, don’t call me._

_Deucalion Crawford:  Don’t bother coming home if you’re going to have that kind of pathetic pro-taint attitude._

_Ethan Crawford:  Gladly.  :P_

_Paige Walters:  How you could call anyone like Stiles a “bitch” is  the real sign that this world is going to hell.  I’m his next door neighbor, and he is a literal Saint who helped keep my family and many other poor families here fed and taken care of every winter.  He's a blessing to us, as a fine hunter/predator.  Don’t you DARE insult him, you disgusting creep._

_Isaac Lahey:  HA!  All of this coming from the virgin unbonded werewolf?  What a joke, you’re just jelly you don’t have Stiles’ legs.  Fucking outran your sorry ass in men’s cross-country.  If Stiles is Tainted, what does that make you?  :P_

_Jackson Whittemore:  Why is there not an unlike button on facebook?  Jeez, that’s the real crime here._

_Scott McCall: >:(  Dude, not cool.  _

_Bobby Finstock:  Crawford, see me in my office on Monday.  We’re going to have to talk about respect and what that means for your teammates, and then we’ll talk about when you can have play time again._

_Victoria Argent:  I am so disappointed in you, Aiden.  I thought you were better than this.  :(_

_Chris Argent:  Aiden, Duke, don’t bother coming to our house on Sundays for dinner anymore.  I’m not going to have someone insulting my packmate like that.  Ethan, you’re still welcome, and if you need a place to stay, my door is open._

_Ethan Crawford.  Sweet.  I’ll come by later.  :)_

_Alan Deaton:  I am so tired of this endless blood debate.  You all bleed the same blood, and all die without it, so  there’s no point in classifying it.  Noble?  Common?  Tainted?  You all die the same.  Ridiculous..._

_Dr. Morrell:  Just a heads up, Aiden, that colleges can read your public posts.  Just as I, and the rest of the scholarship committee here at Beacon University, have.  We’ll be contacting you shortly through mail to discuss our zero tolerance classist policies._

_Vernon Boyd:  Dislike.  Stiles saved my butt last year in Trig and tutored me in our free period.  He’s the kind of guy that would give you the shirt off his back, even if he’s freezing and about to die.  Don’t talk shit about him._

_Erica Reyes.  PUNK ASS BITCH, DON’T YOU TALK SHIT ABOUT STILES.  THAT CUTIE PIE IS AN ANGEL WHO BASICALLY DID ALL THE WORK FOR JUNIOR PROM WITH ME AND GREENBERG, GAVE AWAY HIS TICKET TO SOMEONE WHO HAD AN OUT OF SCHOOL DATE, AND DIDN’T EVEN GO!  OH, AND GUESS WHO ALSO HELPS OUT STUDENT COUNCIL ALL THE DAMN TIME IN THE SHADOWS, AND WHO GOT US THE FUCKING RAD ASS SENIOR TRIP TO SAN FRAN THANKS TO HIS FUNDRAISER IDEA?  YEAH, STILES!  SO STICK ALL THAT SHIT UP YOUR COAL PIPE, AIDEN CRAWFUCK!_

_Cora Hale:  [this post has been removed for violation of Facebook’s terms of service]_

_Danny Mahealani:  Fucker, get your head out of your ass.  Stiles is awesome.  I lost my brother to a car crash in middle school, and he used to sit next to me at lunch all the time after it happened and ALWAYS gave me his pudding cup when I felt sad.  (I loved pudding).  Then he’d just sit and listen to me bitch about everything.  Thanks to him, I got through that, and I met my best friend (and lover <3) Ethan.  So you’re full of shit Aiden, and so is your dad.  Go fuck yourselves with a rusty rake.  :P_

_Theo Raken:  In elementary school, Stiles let me play with the legos when it was actually his turn.  Anyone else here that’s a werewolf know another werewolf who was willing to share toys as kids?  Yeah, didn’t think so.  Stiles is a good guy._

_Heather Anderson:  BITCH, PLEASE.  Stiles?  Tainted?  Yeah, no.  There’s nothing tainted about that ray of sunshine.  You, on the other hand?  Bet you have a tainted dick.  Tainted tiny dick.  :P_

_Isaac Lahey:  HAHA.  *high fives Heather*_

_Liam Dunbar:  Stiles babysat me all the time when I was little.  I’m a human with explosive personality disorder.  So when I was like 10 years old, I punched him in the nose and broke it, and then kicked him in the balls.  He was 16 and he could have easily killed me.  Or even lost his temper and really hurt me.  I mean, he’s a werewolf.  Stiles didn’t, though.  He just held me down and helped me come out of my episode, and said “it’s okay”.  The guy baked me cookies with a pair of sore balls._

_Charles Greenburg:  Not cool.  Stiles is the only one who doesn’t make fun of me all the time.  Don’t be mean to him.  :(_

_Matt Daehler:  I’ve got some pictures of you, Aiden, which might just show who the real “tainted bitch” is here.  Remember that pool party at the Hales last summer?  Do you also remember who you had your hands on all that night?  Yeah, I do too, you hypocritical piece of shit.  ;)_

_Isaac Lahey:  DAHLER, I DEMAND COPIES!_

_Lydia Martin:  As a member of the Martin Family, and as a member of the Hale Pack, I can say this with absolute certainty.  Stiles Stilinski is one of the most brilliant minds of this generation.  He gives me a run for my money every day of my life, and my academic rival.  I mean, I’m going to crush him in the end, but the fact is that he’s probably going to go so far above and beyond what any of us could fathom.  Derek, the Hales, and I, am lucky to have him in our family now._

_Allison Argent:  Stiles and Derek are in love, in the middle of bonding, and seem to be loving it from the looks on this photo. They’re both legal, consenting adults.  That’s all that matters in love.  :)_

_Laura Hale:  Here’s an interesting fact that most people probably don’t even know.  Stiles Stilinski is part of the reason why werewolves and humans are finally starting to get along.  He’s lived for years with humans, and never once had a formal complaint filed against him.  Stiles was the very FIRST werewolf ever to be adopted by humans in the United States, with my Pepaw signing off on it.  Did you know he’s the reason why werewolves get adopted now by humans, and why the practice is being promoted in countries around the world?  That when humans ask adoption agencies “is it safe having a werewolf child?”, they can point to Stiles and say “yep, here’s a werewolf raised by humans, who’s in the top 1% of his class in grades, and is undoubtedly loved by everyone around him”.  That he’s why all the refugee kids from Eastern Europe now have homes with humans, and are actually getting a second chance at life, away from that shitty underground living they grew up in?  Yeah, don’t you dare insult Stiles Stilinski.  He’s got more Noble Blood than ANY of us, combined.  If anything, having him in our family is the real honor here._

_Gregory Hale:  Well said, Laura.  I might also add that Stiles Stilinski is a fine young werewolf who am I glad to have as part of my family.  If anyone would like to argue that fact, or think that I’m making a mistake, I welcome them to the Hale House to discuss this with me in person.  I will gladly educate you.  Oh, and Mr. Crawford, you can consider any and all alliances with the Hale family revoked._

_Talia Hale:  Dad, you can’t do that.  I’m the Alpha now, remember?  Have been for 20 years!_

_Gregory Hale:  Sorry, dear._

_Talia Hale:  Thank you, dad.  Oh, and Mr. Crawford, please consider any and all alliances with the Hale family revoked._

 

The comments went on and on.  Some of them weren’t even werewolves from his school, but rather those from all around the country.  With Gregory Hale commenting on it, it’d practically gone viral.  The public post could be seen by and commented on by anyone, and Stiles couldn’t even keep up with the comments.  

Sure, there were a few assholes that agreed with Aiden, but all in all?  95% of it was positive.

“Stiles?  Stiles, you okay?” Allison asked.

Glancing up from the phone, STiles realized that he’d started crying.  He could picture them all.  All of the kids at school he’d spoken to, but never really gotten to be solid friends with.  Recalled them all being a part of his life.  Recalled being so afraid of them rejecting him, afraid of what they really thought.  Afraid of all the pity they’d heap on him.  

Yet...  Here they were.  Each and every one of them sticking up or him.  Telling off a Crawford, one of the richest families in the California area.

Stiles couldn’t help but laugh.  

“Sorry, sorry, I just..  I...  I didn’t think that...  Any of them really knew me,” Stiles said, wiping away the tears.

“You are kidding, right?” Lydia asked, taking her phone back while cocking an eyebrow.  “Everyone knows you, Stiles.  You’re super-wolf and you intimidate the fuck out of all of us,” she said, throwing her hair back and standing up from the couch.  

Stiles felt his jaw gently drop.

“She’s right!” Allison admitting, standing up and joining her mate by the front door.  “Stiles, you live with humans.  Humans that LIKE you.  Do you know how many of us would kill for that?  Well, I guess Aiden Crawford and those classist assholes wouldn’t kill for it, but it’s idiots like them that give us all a bad name.  You, though?  You’re awesome,” she said, winking at him.

Stiles felt Derek wrap a warm arm around his waist.  “He’s perfect,” he purred.  Derek nuzzled and pressed a gentle kiss on his neck.

“Ew, no.  Do not need to see you two getting your mack on,” Lydia said, rolling her eyes.  

Allison glanced away as well.  “Ditto!  Well, we did what we came to do.  We’ll see you guys at the house later, right?” she said, as she opened up the door, while Lydia made a quick exit.

“Later,” Derek purred, already laying him and Stiles both down on the couch.

Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek’s waist returning the Alpha’s kiss.  “Much later,” he added, playfully.

 

+++++

 

While Stiles still felt bad about the drama he’d created for the Hales, there was something about having hundreds of people leaping to his defense that made the guilt slowly ease away.  That, and Derek’s skilled lips.

Though eventually, they did have to detangle from one and other, shower, let Stiles pack an overnight bag, and finally drive over to the Hale mansion.

Stiles watched as the beautiful log home came closer and closer, with wide glass windows making up the sides.  A three-story home inside a gated community that held varying other homes lined up and down a well-manicured street.  The forests of California lied behind the mansion, which is where Stiles assumed they would run that night.

“Pepaw made this little area for us a long time ago.  He, Lydia’s grandmother, Allison’s grandfather, and other relations of my family built most of it by hand after everything calmed down with the lifting of the Supernatural curtain.  Then Jackson, Scott, and Isaac became my best friends, so Pepaw let the McCall and Whittemores move in.  Isaac kind of had a shitty father, so he and i share a room.  Well, we did, I bet he moves in with Scott now,” he said, chuckling.

Pulling into the four-car garage on the end of the mansion, Stiles smiled.  “That’s awesome.  So you all live in one area, all together?” he asked.

Derek nodded, cutting off the engine.  “Yep.  Same will probably happen to your family, and Pepaw will build them houses too.  The Parrish family too, which is where Laura’s mate was born into,” he explained.

Stiles cocked an eyebrow.  “Parrish?  That doesn’t sound familiar,” he explained.

The two unbuckled from the vehicle, while Stiles grabbed his duffle bag out of the backseat.

“Not surprising.  Jordan’s actually from Las Vegas, he was just visiting my Uncle Peter when he met Laura, and they bonded on the spot.  I gotta say, it’s amazing how all of this predestiny stuff works.  Trips from Las Vegas, my friends all bonding in a polybond 10 years after they all met, Lydia and Allison being friends since childhood, and then...  Well, our little door incident,” Derek said, with a warm, embarrassed smile.

Walking out of the garage, Stiles took Derek’s hand, smiling in his direction.  “I don’t think I’m going to hold it against the door anymore,” he said.

“I will fuck that door up for you, just say the word,” Derek offered, with a playful flashing of teeth.

They both laughed as they made their way up the front porch steps.  Yet, they’d barely made it a step further, before the door swung open, and a flash of black hair rushed, hugging Stiles around the waist and spinning him around and around, pulling him out of Derek’s grasp.

“Oh my God, Stiles!  You adorable little angel, welcome, welcome, welcome!” a woman exclaimed, crushing him in her love.

Choking for air, Stiles glanced down.  Standing just as tall as Derek, with the same strong features, but with a long hairstyle down to her waist, there was no mistaking the Alpha Twin, Laura Hale.  President of Student Council, the head of pretty much every organization the school offered, and the captain of the tennis and swimming teams.  She was a model student leader, and was destined for greatness.  

“Laura, please don’t break my mate,” Derek said, folding his arms fondly.

She stopped spinning, rubbing her cheek against Stiles’ in order to scent him.  “I wouldn’t dare!” Laura exclaimed, lifting her head up and beaming at him.  “Listen, I am so sorry that asshate Aiden Crawford gave you so much shit this morning.  He finally took the post down, but the damage is done to his and his father’s reputation.  We won’t be doing any more dealings with the Crawford Family,” she explained.

Stiles dropped his face, frowning.  The Crawfords were rich beyond anyone’s wildest dreams, and owned one of the world’s most prominent medical industries that were werewolf friendly.  To lose them?  Well fuck, Stiles didn't’ want them to go THAT far.

“I...  I’m sorry, I didn’t-” Stiles said, silenced as Laura covered his mouth, flashing her red eyes.

“Nope.  None of that apologizing shit.  Pepaw and Mama don’t do any dealings with people who are part of class wars, or who look down on blood, or look down on species.  We were already on thin ice with Deucalion Crawford, that was just the breaking point.  I mean, how embarrassing is it to be backing a company like that?  Would you buy from the Crawfords, if you knew they discriminated against people?” Laura explained, shaking her head.

Stiles thought about it for all of a second.  He shook his head.

“Yep!  That’s what I thought,” Laura said, releasing Stiles’s mouth and then putting her arm around the teen.  “Now come on!  Cora is dying to meet you, and I want you to meet Jordan, and then we’ll all pig out for lunch and get to know each other!  Oh, and you’ve got to see Derek’s goofy baby pictures,” she said, dragging Stiles through the front door.

Derek smirked, chuckling as he picked up Stiles’ bag from the porch that he’d dropped.

“What an adorable pear.  Take good care of him, nephew.  There are so little left of his kind,” a man whispered.

Piquing his ears, Derek glanced off to the far end of the porch.  Standing off to the side and reading a thick stack of papers, an older werewolf in his early thirties leaned against the railing of the porch.  Well toned, with a head of soft brown hair, and a stylish Armani suit, he had a far more formal air about him than the rest of the Hales.

“A pear?  Who, Stiles?” Derek asked, staring incredulously at the man before him.  His mother’s brother, Peter Hale, and the youngest son of Gregory Hale.  His eyes glowed a bright Omega gold.  Derek chuckled.  "There's no way.  Stiles?  A pear?   Peter, that's...  That's crazy.  I mean...  Jordan's a pear.  Stiles?  Yeah, no, there's no way," he said quietly.  He shook his head, entering the home and closing the door behind him.

Peter glanced up from his paperwork, rolling his eyes.  "Whatever you say, nephew.  Whatever you say.  When he shifts tonight, you'll all see.  Pepaw's never wrong.  He wasn't wrong about Jordan, and he won't be wrong about Stiles,"he muttered quietly.  He sat his paperwork down on the railing, reaching into his pocket for a flask that he downed in an instant.


	6. Chapter 6

The inside of the Hale Mansion, to Stiles at least, was just a tad bit underwhelming.  Not that it wasn’t gorgeous, with its earthy toned furniture and walls, and the gorgeous artwork on the walls, the warmth and rustic charm of their antiques, but Stiles was picturing something along the lines of Richie Rich.  Or maybe a classic Californian mansion, like the Beverly Hillbillies.  Instead, the place was more like a regular home not unlike his own, just...  Bigger.

A handful of children under the age of 8 were all laid out in the living area mate, playing with action figures, dolls, and large plushies.  They all beamed at Stiles, flashing their fangs and already looking at him like “fresh meat”.

“Down, kiddos!  Leave the poor guy alone, he JUST got here, and we’re going to the grown-up room to talk.  You can chase him tonight,” Laura said, still dragging Stiles by the arm.

Crestfallen, the kids echoed a loud “aww”, and somehow, Stiles felt as though he now owed Laura a huge favor.

Laura smiled.  “Those would be Peter’s brats, the spawns of Satan themselves.  They won’t be running with us until they blow off steam, since they’re still so young.  Peter, his wife Melanie, and Pepaw take them to a separate part of the woods and wear them out.  Most of them still have control issues, but they get better every month,” she explained.

Stiles nodded, as they made their way into a long hallway.  His ears piqued, trying to make out any noise or sound, only to hear nothing much else besides the kids, and a few people in the direction they were heading.

“Where is everyone?” Stiles asked, curiously.

“Setting up in the forest region?” Derek asked, as he jogged back into the main hallway to catch up with the two of them.  He hefted Stiles’ bag over his shoulder.

Spinning around, Laura walked backwards.  “Yep!  Everyone but the kids are helping mom and dad setup.  They should be done anytime now, though, and then we can all make our last introductions to Stiles, eat a big lunch, fight over the football game, do the Pack Meeting, and be ready for sunset in no time!” she exclaimed.

Derek chuckled.  “I keep forgetting Stiles hasn’t been introduced to the pack yet.  Not that it matters, he’s met pretty much everyone but Peter, his family, and Memaw,” he said.  He wrapped his hand around STiles’ shoulder and pulled him closer as they walked.

“Memaw?” Stiles said, thinking for a moment until he blushed with embarrassment.  “Oh!  You mean Betty Hale?  Gregory’s wife?” he exclaimed, beaming from ear to ear in excitement.

As legendary as Gregory Hale was, Betty Hale was legendary in her own way.  While Gregory fought for werewolf rights, Betty fought for werewolf liberation.  With most of Europe under the fist of the Helsing Hunters after the curtain lifted, their respective governments had (out of fear of a new Supernatural threat), given the Helsings unlimited power, wealth, and military support to deal with the “threat”.  

Betty Hale worked overseas during the time when the Helsings were in power, smuggling the hunted European Werewolf clans out of the dark threat, and into the United States.  Without much in the way of rooted Hunters in North America, the countries of Canada, Mexico, America, and Puerto Rico were the safest places in all of the world to be a werewolf, and the Hales (led by Betty) made sure they saved as many as they could.

“Wow.  She’s…  Lady Betty is a legend…” Stiles said, a little starstruck.  Without a doubt, she was the most famous Omega Werewolf in all of history.

Laura snickered.  “Stiles, if you call Memaw anything other than Memaw, she will literally eat you.  Her and Pepaw seriously hate all the “fame” that came with their lives, and don't want to deal with it at home.  Same with mom, really, but she’s nice about it,” she explained.

“Poor Jordan found that out the hard way.  What kind of mate were you to not warn the poor guy about Memaw and Pepaw?  How long did Memaw force-feed him cookies until he “felt like family”?” Derek said, with a smirk.

“Shut up!” Laura said, shoving Derek in the arm.

As the Alpha Twins bickered back and forth, they came to stop inside a large study, practically overflowing with couches, chairs, a currently empty fireplace, and book-lined bookshelves as far as the eye could see.  Stiles drooled over the amount of reading that there was probably available in that room alone, and the history hanging up on the walls, from photos, to crests, and countless educational degrees that the older members had earned..

“This is the Hale Pack Room,” Laura said, as she pointed out the area to Stiles.  “We hold any family meetings in here, which is very rare unless someone is mated, there’s a big issue in the media about us, or if someone has a grievance they need to air.  So really, it’s just a living room without a TV.  Memaw, Peter, and Lydia practically live in here, for the peace and quiet,” Laura explained, patting Stiles on the shoulder.

Derek nodded, sitting Stiles’ bag down in the corner.  “Since you’re from an outside pack, we’ll be formally introducing you to everyone in here after lunch.  Jordan, Laura’s mate, went through it just a few days ago.  Relatively painless, we just basically go around the room and make sure you know you’re welcome.  Then there’s a vote to accept or decline you into the family from the Pack Leaders.  Which is my mom the acting Alpha of the pack, Pepaw the Elder Alpha of the pack, Memaw the Elder Omega of the pack, Peter the Acting Omega of the pack, and then Laura and myself as “future” acting alphas, though the two of us don’t vote,” he explained.

“Not that it matters.  They all agreed last night they’d vote you in.  Unanimous, I might add!  After they grabbed all your school records, and interviewed a few people at the school, and your boss Mr. Hingleblotter, they were in LOVE.  You are officially the goddamn favorite now, knocking Cora down a peg or two!” Laura added colorfully, with a wink.

Stiles blushed, turning away.  “I uh...  Sorry?” he said, chuckling nervously.

“Don’t apologize for being perfect,” Derek said, coming up behind Stiles.  He wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist, and pecked a gentle kiss on his cheek.

Stiles melted.

Laura couldn’t help but smile, covering her cheeks.  “Aww!  Oh my god, Derek, you look so much less constipated now!  This is too cute!” she said, pulling out her cell phone and snapping several pictures in a row.  

Stiles felt embarrassed, especially as Derek got more and more aggressive with his kissing, but everything finally ended as Laura’s cell phone blared in her hands.

“What?  Oh, hey, it’s mom,” Laura said, answering the line.  “Hey mom!  What’s-”

There was a short pause, as Laura spoke quietly with Talia.  The conversation lasted only a few minutes, before she groaned, hanging up the phone.  “Gah...  Derek, mom needs you and I to run to the store.  Isaac and Jackson forgot to pick up the gallon jugs of water, and we need a metric shitton for tonight,” she explained.

Derek huffed.  “Great...  Five bucks says Jackson didn’t forget, he just didn’t want to lift the pallets...  Smart little shit,” he said, sighing to himself.  

They  both turned to Stiles.  

“We’ll be right back.  Shouldn’t take us long, you can just hang out here for a bit,” Laura said, pointing to the bookshelves, and many framed pictures on the wall.  “Feel free to look around.  There’s a lot about our pack here, if you’re interested in knowing about us.  The pictures on the wall are our family, and all of the clans Pepaw and Mamaw met all over the world.  It’s really cool,” she explained, reaching into her front pocket and pulling out a set of keys.  “Come on Derek,” she said, as she jogged out of the Pack Room, and down the hallway.

Stiles turned to Derek.  “I don’t mind to help, if you need an extra hand or two,” he said, putting on a kind smile.

“It’s fine, Stiles,” Derek said, pecking a kiss on Stiles’ forehead.  “Things are always crazy around the full moon, so they might need your help here later, anyway.  Laura and I can handle it, and there’s only room for two in her truck.  Be back in 20 minutes, tops.  Then I’ll show you around, and we can hang out in my room after lunch.  Playing games, you know...” he explained, with a cute smile.

“Games as in WoW and Starcraft, or more...  Interactive games?” Stiles asked, curiously.

“What do you think?” Derek replied, licking his bottom lip.

Stiles smirked.  “Ten bucks I can kick your score’s ass in League of Legends,” he said, threateningly.

A low growl, and playful fangs popped out of Derek’s mouth.  “Oh it’s on, motherfucker.  Nobody fucks with my Warwick main,” he said, before planting one final kiss on Stiles’ lips, before jogging after his sister.

Stiles rolled his eyes, but smiled at his dorky mate.  

Shaking his head, Stiles walked around the room, listening quietly as a grandfather clock ticked back and forth in the corner of the room.  He stopped at a few bookshelves, noticed in awe that many of them seemed to be handwritten history books, and reached out to pull one from the shelf.  In a soft, cursive handwriting, he could make out “The Celtic Wolves ; Warrior Clan of Europe (1748-1989)” that was emblazoned on the cover.  

 _“Celtic Wolves?  I didn’t know there was such a...  Oh...”_ Stiles thought to himself, crestfallen as he realized the dates on the cover.  

In their quest to smite the werewolves after the Supernatural Curtain lifted, the Helsing Hunters had wiped out entire clans and cultures of werewolves in Europe.  Hunted them to the point of extinction, using the military of many governments to seek out and destroy them with both military tactics, and natural werewolf poisons, such as Wolfsbane, being dropped into regional drinking sources.  Harmless to humans, deadly to the werewolves.  More died from dehydration than poisoning in those dates.

1989, Stiles realized, must have been the year they’d gone extinct.  Many in between 1985 and 1995 had met a similar fate.  Up until the International Werewolf Treaty Talia had forged in the nineties.  Sure there were still hunting issues around the world, but they were much less widespread these days.

Putting the book back on the shelf, Stiles stepped away, and tried not to read the rest of the spines.  Virtually all had “end” dates.

Stiles reached the end of the room, a blank space of wall with hundreds of photographs lining the regions.  A much more cheerful sight, to be sure.

He laughed as he spotted a young Derek and Laura, in half-shift, fighting over a stuffed animal in a much younger Gregory Hale’s lap.  A teenage Talia (with a surprising amount of piercings and and leather), on a motorcycle with a young Alec, with a gang of other werewolves, with banners riding high above their heads with pro-werewolf rhetoric.  Then he spotted Gregory Hale, standing at a podium outside of the White House, shaking hands with several high-ranking US officials, including the President, at what Stiles knew was the final signing of the Werewolf Protection Amendment, which outlawed all forms of “Hunting” of Werewolves in the United States in the early 90’s.  Another picture of Talia (in a suit and tie, minus the piercings) at the United Nations, meeting with Victor Helsing, and singing the International Treaty of Helsing-Hale, promising an end to all hostilities against Supernaturals who followed the law of many countries, which had been signed when Stiles was just a child.

Though as he saw pictures of the Hale family’s rich history, he stopped as a photo that caught his attention.

A not too distant photograph, of a large gathering of werewolves in what appeared to be a regal study, engrossed in dozens of books.  Most appeared to be thin, pale werewolves, with their noses in books.  Well, except for Gregory Hale, who had his arms around a man in his early twenties, with soft brown hair, and piercing red eyes.

_“Alek Bernard IV & The Bernard Clan ; Warsaw, Poland.”_

“They helped shape the plan that helped Gregory reveal the supernatural to humans.  Without them, it would have never happened,” and old voice exclaimed.

Stiles jumped, spinning around to watch an older woman step inside the study.  Standing at no taller than five feet in height, her long white hair had been done in an elegant braid, down to her feet.  Warm golden eyes and gentle wrinkled features gave her a wizened appearance, and her smile was softer than even that of Gregory’s.

Chuckling at Stiles’ fright, she held out a hand to him.  “I do apologize, sweetheart, I’ve always been a sneaky thing, part of my charm.  I’m Memaw Hale.  So lovely to finally meet Derek’s lovely mate.  My little Tally has been going on and on about you all week, and I must say she was quite right...  You are a handsome young man.  If only I were 90 years younger, and not married or bonded,” she said warmly, laughing gently..

Stiles took her hand, shaking it firmly.  “It’s an honor to meet you, Memaw Hale.  I’m Stiles, Stiles Stilinski,” he explained, trying not to be as starstruck as he’d been with Gregory.  Which, wasn’t going so well, as he kept shaking her hand repeatedly.

Eventually taking her hand back, Betty turned back to the photograph Stiles had been looking at.  “For fifty years, everyone told us that the plan to come out from behind the Supernatural Curtain was impossible.  Alek Bernard III?  No...  He took it as a challenge!  Worked for years on it, and passed down all his knowledge to his son, Alek Bernard IV.  The young man was a brilliant strategist, and developed the rolling plan that would allow for unity between the humans and us.  That night, he and Gregory finalized the last plans that we would present to the creatures around the world, earning their blessing in communicating with the humans,” she explained, with a warm smile.

“Wait...  I thought that Gregory was the one behind all of that!” Stiles exclaimed, taken aback by the current admission.

Betty chuckled.  “Oh heavens, no.  Gregory had the courage and strength to be the face behind all of this mess, and to take the spears and arrows that came from the human race, but planning it?  Oh no...  It was a collaboration between the finest minds that our generation had ever known.  This wasn’t something that could be blurted out, this was something that would require political, religious, and societal wrinkles to be worked out before even fathoming to bring us to light.  Telling the human race that they were woefully outnumbered and no longer the top of the food chain?  A very difficult task,” she explained.

“Ah...  So I guess this Bernard family had a lot to do with it?” Stiles asked.

Nodding, Betty smiled fondly.  “Oh yes...  Those Polish Weres were something else.  No other werewolf clan, as far as I can remember, ever valued higher education as early as they did.  Or even valued the idea of living amongst the humans.  They became weaker and weaker with each generation as they focused more on the human side of their lives, but yes, those Pears were forward thinkers if I ever-”

“Mrs. Hale, are you in here?  I’ve got the tea you asked-” a woman said, interrupting Stiles and Betty’s discussion.  She spoke in a thick, foreign accent, but her words were eloquent and easy to understand.  

They both turned to face the woman.

A pale, lanky individual, she stood a few inches taller than Stiles.  With her tidy brown hair in a neat bob, and in a suit and tie with a gun holstered at her side, she could easily double as a Secret Service agent.   Yet her golden eyes, hidden by a pair of red glasses, radiated a warmth and kindness that betrayed her otherwise “stiff” attire.  

A pair of eyes that kept staring at Stiles, and couldn’t break away for even a moment.  Her grip on a silver tray of teacups and a pot loosened, as she took deep breaths through her nose.

Betty sniffed the air, and a warm smile covered her face.  “Ania, dear, thank you so very much,” Betty said, cutting the distance between them, and taking the tray in her own hands.  She guided Ania towards the couch, where Betty would place the tray down.  Stiles would stay in place, glancing over the rest of the Hale photo wall.  “Stiles, would you like to join us for tea?” she asked politely.

Spinning around, Stiles nodded.  “I’d love to,” he answered.

“Lovely!  We can all get to know each other before tonight’s run.  Let me go get another teacup, some cookies, and some fruit, I’m feeling a little peckish today.  Give me just a few moments,” Betty said.

Ania stood up.  “Oh, allow me Mrs-”

“Nonsense!  You stay here, you’re always spoiling me, and I can take care of myself.  My husband’s not the only one who’s aged well! “ Betty replied, winking at Stiles.

“Stiles, this is Ania.  She joined our pack many years ago, and is our head of security for our family members living in New York.  I called her back here to assist me with a trip I’m planning, and of course, to meet Derek and Laura’s mates,” she said, turning back to Ania.  “Ania, this is Stiles Stilinksi, Derek’s mate.  Now, I’ll be right back with another teacup, and we can talk more,” she explained, before turning away and letting herself out of the Pack Room.

Left all to their lonesome, Stiles felt a tad awkward.  Stiles could feel Ania’s stare on him, and the silence was deafening.  

He pretended to be interested in more photos, but his eyes always gazed back to the Polish photo.  They looked so...  Well, he guessed “Tainted” wasn’t the word.  After all if an entire people were pale and skinny, maybe that was just a cultural evolution they couldn’t control.  Betty had said it herself, they valued education and hiding in plain sight over everything else.  Maybe they just weren’t as “wolfy” as other clans.  

“That is my family,” Ania muttered quietly.  Her face fell down, focused intently on the hardwood floors of the Pack Room.

Stiles spun around.  “Oh?  Really?  Betty had a lot of nice things to say about them,” he explained.  

Ania smiled, nodding.  “We were the richest, most powerful pack in all of Europe.  Passing as humans for centuries, even the Helsings didn’t know our true nature.  Many thought us just to be wealthy, intelligent business people who owned and operated the most prized farming land, which we tended to with a “ruthless efficiency”, they called it, but just normal effficiency for werewolfs,” she explained, with a smile.  “Well, that is until we openly supported the Hales and tried to counter the Helsing Movement.  Which failed, unfortunately.  Like so many, we were ran from our home and into the shadows of forests, fearing for our lives as the Hunters systematically began eliminating our kind, one by one.  Especially those of the name Bernard,” she said, her tone quietly lowering with each and every word uttered.

Walking towards her, Stiles sat down beside her on the couch.  He could smell overwhelming sadness emanating from her pores.  A lifetime of injustices, living during those awful times.  He said nothing as she took a deep breath, readying herself.

Ania closed her eyes.  “Helsings called for our public execution, our extradition from any country who would shelter us.  Which was a real threat.  The Celtic Daea Pack had been ripped from the safety of Greenland, and executed in their homeland a mere week later.  So any born of the Bernard name would fear for their lives in that day and age.  Not until Gregory’s signing of the American Amendment, or Talia’s International Treaty were we able to breath easily.  Not that there were even that many of us left, at that point.  Practically every werewolf in Poland had perished, save for my family,” she said, shaking her head.

“What did you do?  How did you survive?” Stiles asked, glancing back at the hundreds of shelves of history books.  More than half of them likely told tales of those ending their race.

Ania opened her eyes.  “I ran.  My husband, Alek, allowed for me to take the remaining children of the pack, and two of our best Beta guards while he diverted attention on his own mission.  He...  Well, needless to say, we were illegally escorted by Betty Hale, across the Bering Strait, into Alaska, down through Canada, and into the United States.  Upon arrival, I hid our pack’s children throughout the country.  Some packs were willing to take them in and raise them as their own.  Others were less than amicable, fearful of their own lives and what sheltering a Bernard would entail.  It was the worst month of my life.  Yet, it was done.  Myself, and my Beta friends would never see our children again, but I knew...  I knew they would be fine, as no one could possibly find them again.  Even…  Myself,” she muttered quietly.

“Were they...  Safe?” Stiles asked, feeling a cold pit in his stomach.

Nodding, Ania smiled.  “All of them.  The packs that took them in gave them new names, new identities, and a new life.  I met one, just recently, actually, and I was happy to have met him again.  My nephew, Jakub.  Or rather, he’s now Jordan Parrish, of the Parrish Pack in Nevada.  Grew up to be quite a smart young man, and destiny brought him here to work with Peter to trace his heritage.  He not only found his roots and connection to the Bernard Pack, but also found his one true love.  I...  I was able to tell him about his late parents, and I made sure he know how loved he was,” she added, gleefully.

“That’s amazing.  You met your nephew after all these years, but...  How’d you know he was yours?” Stiles added.

Swearing he could spot Ania wiping away a tear, she laughed.  “Oh sweetheart, you’ll know this when you have children of your own, but the smell?  Omegas never forget the smell of their own blood.  Even if 20 years or more passes, they’d never...  They can never forget it,” she added.  Ania bit her bottom lip.  “Even to this day, I’d know my own child’s scent like it were yesterday,” she added quietly.

“Did you ever meet your child again?  After everything calmed down?” Stiles asked, yelping as he covered his mouth when he realized what an awful question that was.  Because apparently, he lacked any and all form of tact.

“I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind.  I try to leave the past horrors where they belong, in the past.  I know my child is safe, so that is all I truly care about,” Ania said, turning away.  

“Oh, yeah...  I’m...  I’m sorry, that was rude of me,” Stiles muttered back.

An awkward silence followed.  Stiles rubbed the back of his neck, groaning at his insensitivity.

“You came from the Stilinskis, you said?  I believe those are humans, correct?  You were the one taken in by humans...  The first werewolf adopted by humans...” Ania muttered.

Stiles cleared his throat.  “I uh... Yeah, that was me,” he explained.

“Were they...  Good to you?  I could only imagine how difficult it must have been, living with... Humans,” Ania mumbled.

Chuckling, Stiles shook his head.  “No, they were awesome.  John and Claudia, that’s my mom and dad, are the best parents anyone could ask for.  Hell, the entire Stilinski family was always great to me.  So okay, I was a sideshow for a couple of years to the aunts and cousins, let’s be honest, but after a while, I was just Stiles to them,” he said, feeling his awkwardness melt away.  “There weren’t any manuals for mom to read on how to raise a werewolf, so she just sort of let me do my own thing, and when I got older, we were honest with each other about what I was going through, and she made sure I knew that I was free to be a werewolf, and she’d never try to make me be just a human half.  Dad sometimes took things a little harder, with the werewolf stuff, but...  You know, he still rolled with the punches, helped me with my monthly shift he’d take us all camping for, learned how to hunt and taught me how to hunt when I was old enough, and tried his damnest to give me a birds and bees talk when I was 13.  Which was hilarious, because the poor guy had ZERO idea about Omegas that the school had taught us, but had read some really bizarre article about werewolf mating, which was written by some hack in the 80’s.  Never had the heart to correct him.  Well, I guess I’ll need to, eventually! he answered, laughing quietly at the memory.

Several more tears ran down Ania’s smiling face.  “That sounds lovely...  You...  You sound like you really care about them,” she muttered.

“Well, yeah, they’re my mom and dad.  They’re awesome parents, who in the last week, basically refused to put up with my shit and let me know I was good enough to date a Hale.  Even if I’m not...  You know, perfect, and even though I have no idea what kind of crazy-ass family I could have come from.  They uh...  They’re everything to me.  They’re my pack,” Stiles muttered, laughing at himself.

Ania didn’t laugh alongside him.

Betty returned from the kitchen, with a tray of snacks, and an extra teacup for Stiles.  

“Here we are...  I stole some of those cookies that Gregory thinks I don’t know about, and grabbed some of the lovely treats that Allison made for tonight,” Betty explained, sitting the tray down on the table in front of Stiles and Ania.  She then poured Stiles his own cup of tea, and took a seat next to him.  

Betty stole a quick smirk to Ania, and then turned back to Stiles.   “So Stiles...  Tell me a little bit about yourself!  Memaw wants to hear everything!” she exclaimed.

Sipping what was a lovely blend of natural leaves, Stiles hummed to himself.  “Like what?  I mean, my life is kind of boring,” he explained.

“Oh heavens, anything!  Tell me about school, about your family, your job, your likes...  I mean, Christmas is coming up, what’s your favorite thing to do?  Memaw needs to know these things!” Betty replied, patting Stiles’ knee.  “I want to know more about my newest little grandson, and I’m sure Ania would love to know about her new pack member.  Right?” she asked, glancing over to Ania.  

Biting her bottom lip, Ania nodded, stuffing her mouth full of cookies and mumbling something to the affirmative.  

Stiles dropped his head.  He figured his nosiness had really brought up some bad memories for Ania, for her to smell and act so distant.  Somehow, he’d need to apologize for that later.  In the meantime though, maybe he could at least distract her with boring conversations about his life, which Memaw seemed obsessed with.

“I uh...  Well, I grew up in the human side of Beacon Hills, but I went to Beacon for my education since I was in kindergarten, with the rest of the werewolves here.  So I kind of had human friends at home, but werewolf friends at school,” Stiles said, as he began a long winded explanation about his life.  Which, Stiles figured, failed as a distraction, because Ania refused to look at him, let alone speak a single word.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Stiles felt a tad more relaxed once the Hale family trickled into the Pack Room.  Anything had to be better than smelling Ania’s downright disgusting sorrow waft from her body, and the occasional sniffle.  Thankfully, when the pack members joined them, the conversations seemed to have ended easily.

Most of the pack members were familiar faces, like Pepaw, Talia, Alec, and naturally Derek and Laura’s friends from high school.  New faces included Scott’s mother (Melissa, a sweet woman who hugged him with the strength of a bear), Jackson’s fathers (Jason and Anders, two taller and more “built” versions of Jackson, but without the attitude, and both as sweet as honey), Allison’s family (Chris and Victoria Argent, both who stoically bowed to the “Alpha Mate” and swore to protect him), Lydia’s mother (Natalie, a warm woman with soft features), and Lydia’s grandmother (Lorraine, older than both Memaw and Pepaw, finally at the ripe age of 120 and at the last stages of her life).

Cora Hale, a bubbly 13-year-old alpha girl with short spiky black hair, donning her varsity wrestling jacket (of which she was the captain of the team, even as a freshman), had practically pinned him to the ground with joy at meeting “the cutie patootie”.

Peter Hale introduced himself, and his family.  Holly Hale (an alpha), and their four children Malia, Richard, Xander, and Rosalia.  

By the time Stiles figured he’d met everyone, the Pack Room had become standing room only of all the  Hales, excitedly discussing the  night’s events.  A catering company brought in an amazing spread of snacks, drinks, and desserts, which most people descended upon immediately, and the trash talking about the monthly “race” came to a boil.

Having finally had enough of Jackson’s fathers and Derek bickering over the plans for the following weekend, Stiles freed himself from the conversation, and made his way over to the catering table.  He beamed at the fruit platter, and the abundance of natural fruits which the Hales had all but ignored completely.

Snagging a porcelain plate, Stiles’ hand touched another young man’s, and he glanced up.

“Oops.  Sorry, go ahead!” Stiles said, laughing nervously.

The other young man, probably his same age, stood a few inches shorter than Stiles, with soft brown hair, a pale complexion, and a very obvious pair of contacts that amplified his glimmering blue eyes.  He stood in a tank top, revealing an underweight build, but with strong legs.

“Nope!  My bad, buddy,” this man said, picking up two plates, and handing one to Stiles.  

Stiles smiled, taking the plate.  “Thanks,” he answered.

The two stood in silence as they piled their plates full, with virtually the same choices.  A massive pileup of pineapples, avoiding grapes like the plague, attacking the strawberries, and finally stocking up on mangos and thinly chopped pears.  They ignored the dessert table, and both grabbed cups of lemonade.

“So uh...  This is going to sound awful, but have we met yet?  I’ve just been in the Hale house for three days, so...  Yeah, still don’t have all the names down, and I’m not from around here,” the stranger said, laughing nervously.

Finished with piling his plate, Stiles shook his head as he took in the man’s features once more.  “Uh...  I don’t think so.  I mean, I just got here today.  I’m Stiles, Derek’s mate?” he asked.

“OH!  You’re the guy!” the man said, breathing in relief.  He extended his hand, and the two shared a firm handshake.  “Jordan Parrish.  I’m Laura’s mate.  You’re Stiles, right?,” he added at the end.

Stiles smiled.  “That’s be me, and you’re Jordan!  I heard a lot about you, from Laura and Ania, actually.  Nice to meet you,” he said.

The two dodged Peter’s nightmare children attacking the desserts again, hobbling off to an area off to the end of the room, where they both sat next to each other on a small couch.  They chuckled as they watched Malia stand up on her little brother Richard’s shoulders, and liberating the cookies for their little group.

“Man...  This has been a crazy week,” Jordan muttered quietly, gently picking at a slice of pear he popped in his mouth.

Stiles nodded.  “Oh yeah...  Ditto,” he muttered quietly, shaking his head.  “Never would have thought anything like this was possible.  I mean...  I’m my pathetic self, and I get partnered up with Derek Hale?  Have you SEEN him?!” he asked, pointing across the room, where his dorky mate was currently grabbing two of Peter’s kids up off the ground, and pretending to steal their cookies.  To which, they were vehemently opposed, and began engaging their tiny claws and fangs for battle.

Jordan chuckled.  “You two will be cute together,” he said, patting Stiles on the shoulder.   “So...  How’d you two meet?  When did the brand pop up?” he asked.

“I was defeated by a door.  The door earned 20 coins and 5 experience points,” Stiles thought to himself.  He snorted, clearing his throat.    “School.  We uh...  Ran into each other,” he said, in a much cleaned up version of the events.  Blushing, he turned back to Jordan.  “How about you and Laura?  I think they said you were from Las Vegas?  How’d you get all the way up here?” he asked.

Popping a strawberry in his mouth, Jordan swallowed before answering.  “The International Werewolf Cultural Preservation Project.  Peter, Laura’s uncle, is the director.  I came to see if my family heritage could be traced, and maybe figure out why I was so different than everyone else in school.  Met Laura after Peter got all my information when we ran into each other in the hallway.  We both collapsed, and well...  Yeah, we bonded,” he answered, with a warm smile.  “She’s...  Perfect, you know?” he said, dreamily.

“That’s cool!” Stiles answered, though not before cocking an eyebrow.  “The International whatsit?” Stiles asked, not really sure of what he’d said.  

Jordan laughed.  “They call it the IWCPP.  Basically, it’s a new startup project that Peter started in conjunction with the United Nations and most of the European Countries.  They’re working to trace a lot of refugees back to their homelands, so that these histories and families don’t die out in this current generation, and people growing up not knowing who they are.  Which, the Helsings did a great job of doing,” he grumbled.

Stiles dropped his head, recalling the story of the Bernards.  If he recalled correctly, Jordan had been one of them.  Part of that noble family, only to be ripped away from it as a baby.

Raising up his head, Jordan sighed.  “Never even thought about it at first.  I mean, I always knew I was “different” than the other kids.  I just thought I’d been a runt of a pack.  I mean, I’d been abandoned when I was a baby, at a abbey in Las Vegas.  Sister Parrish, of the former Parrish Pack, took me in and raised me in the church.  Really, all the nuns raised me, but I took the Parrish name since she was the only one with a werewolf heritage.  Made things easier when I went to Saint Lucas, the werewolf school in the area.  Not that it was all that easier...  To be the...  You know...  Runt,” he explained.

Stiles felt his appetite disappear.  He put his plate away, as did Jordan.  Neither looked one and other in the eyes.

“To be the “Tainted” kid in school?” Stiles asked, laughing quietly to himself.

Jordan huffed.  “God I hated that word.  There was this one asshole in school, a real classist, who literally threw a fit one year when they had to sit next to me in the 8th grade.  A letter from a parent later, and they were on the opposite side of the room.  I...  I had to hold in a lot of very bad words that night.  Believe it or not, living with nuns makes swearing or other violent outbursts generally...  Frowned upon,” he muttered, shaking his head.

Sighing, Stiles leaned against the back of the couch.  “Never had that issue, actually.  I mean, I knew what being tainted was, but...  Well, people here weren’t all that up in my face about it.  People at my school were pretty cool about having a Tainted around them.  Though I’d read plenty on the internet,” he muttered.

“What do you mean?” Jordan asked.

Stiles closed his eyes.  “I was abandoned too, in a hospital.  I was raised by humans.  So a lot of werewolf information I got came from either school, teachers, or the internet.  So...  Imagine 10 year old Stiles, who innocently wanted to figure out why his parents might have abandoned him.  Who just wanted a reason “why”,” he said, laughing quietly.

“Oh crap,” Jordan muttered, shaking his head.  “You didn’t go to a-”

“First result on “why does werewolf children get abandoned” went to a pretty classist website all about blood purity and proper breeding.  Then the first bullet point was “what do I do with a child who may be tainted?”,” Stiles said, taking a deep breath.  “Which said to get rid of them, to take them to hospitals, churches, or orphanages and leave them on doorsteps.  That way the pack’s name wouldn’t transfer, and no shame would be on the pack’s name for having birthed a taint.  There were a lot of testimonials too.  A lot of parents saying that their lives were so much better without the stress of having “a taint” mess up their family’s honor, and say that the “taint” was better off not shaming themselves in a family that was better than them,” Stiles explained.

Jordan whistled quietly under his breath, crossing himself on the chest.  “I pray for those awful people and their kids...” he muttered.

“They need it,” Stiles thought to himself.

“I looked up what tainted was after that,” Stiles said.  He opened his eyes back up.  “Needless to say, I found a lot of things that matched me.  Thin, lanky build.  Poor senses.  Abnormal shifting patterns or coat colors other than black.  Had it all, so...  Well, I had my answer,” Stiles said, shaking his head.  “I uh...  I may have deleted everything on that computer.  I didn’t want my mom and dad to read it, and...  Maybe think about...  Not wanting a “defective” werewolf.  I actually worried for a long time that mom and dad would turn me in for a “right” werewolf, one that would be better than me.  I...  I loved them too much, you know?  I..  I was ten, so...  I was stupid, and I know they’d never do that nowadays, but you know?  Shit like that sticks with you,” he admitted.

They sat in mutual silence for several minutes, letting the warm, cheerful voices of the Hale family surround them both.

“So uh…  How’d you hear about this IWasomethingoranother?” Stiles asked, chuckling as he shook off his little pity party.

Jordan smiled.  “My moms always told me that no mother could ever truly hate their child.  They encouraged me to find my family, if that was something I was interested in.  So when Peter started his little project, and I read about it online...  Well, I figured, what the hell.  I went and he was able to tell pretty quick I was a pear.  After that, he pointed out that there was about three total Polish Packs that hadn’t been eliminated, so that short number brought me to Ania, who remembered my scent.  That, and of course, our special shift.  I don’t have a black coat in full shift, either,” he answered.

“Pear?” Stiles asked, quietly raising an eyebrow and focusing on that word.  A word that had been tossed around frequently from Pepaw Hale.  

Snorting, Jordan shook his head.  “Yeah, I don’t get it either.  Sort of a term of endearment, he said.  I guess American Werewolves have “pumpkin” and “honey”, and Polish Werewolves have “pears”.  Ania says there’s a lullaby in her family about a pears, sort of like a nursery rhyme.  I forget how it goes, but she sang it to me.  Anyway, it’s a word that Polish Werewolves called their children, to make a long story short,” he added.

“Really?” Stiles asked, and he compared himself to Jordan.  Sure, there were a few similarities.  Their build, their eyesight, and their lack of muscle, but...  Well, even Gregory Hale had specifically called him a “cute little pear”.    

 _“Fat chance.  You’re a scrawny tainted werewolf that got ditched by a classist set of parents that didn’t want you.  You’ve got a great boyfriend and family that doesn’t care.  Don’t push it,_ ” Stiles thought to himself, dismissing the very thought.  

“Well, that’s pretty awesome,” Stiles said, smiling in Jordan’s direction.

Jordan nodded.  “I…  I’ve got an aunt now.  I mean, my parents died to the Helsings, but…  I know about them now.  I know they loved me, and fought and died so I could escape and have a good life.  That’s sad, yeah, but..  I mean, it’s good to know those kind of things.  And…  I did have a good life.  A very good life that’s only getting better,” he said, glancing over and waving at Laura, who was busy stealing snacks off Cora’s plate.

Stiles grinned alongisde Jordan, watching Derek and Pepaw roaring in laughter with Talia and Melissa.  

“Me too,” Stiles said, smiling.

“You thought about finding your family?  You were abandoned too, you might be a refugee from overseas.  There’s actually a LOT of us from all kinds of European countries.  Peter showed me the numbers, and it’s terrifying,” Jordan offered.

“Nah,” Stiles said, laughing quietly to himself.  “I...  I’m not some foreign werewolf.  I’m just a scrawny runt who got abandoned in a hospital.  Nothing more, nothing less,” he explained.

Before Jordan could open his mouth to argue, Derek and Laura joined their conversation.  Laura plopped down next to Jordan, while Derek wrapped his arm around Stiles.  

“Guess you two met?” Laura said, pecking a kiss on Jordan’s cheek.

Nodding, Jordan smiled.  “Yeah.  We've got a lot in common, actually," he answered.

"Cool," Derek said, pressing a gentle kiss on Stiles' forehead.  "Hey, they're going to start the pack meeting soon.  Then we can relax until tonight's runs," he asked.

"I'm sure he's got his speech ready, right Stiles?  I mean, it’s the most important part of the ceremony," Laura asked.

"My what?" Stiles asked, as a look of panic crossed his face.

Jordan rolled his eyes.  "She's kidding, Derek tried the same stunt with me," he whispered quietly in Stiles' direction.

Glaring at Laura, Stiles huffed.  "You?  I'm going to keep my eye on you," he said angrily.

 

+++++

 

As Derek promised, the pack meeting took all of ten minutes.  A short ceremony of sorts, inviting Stiles into the Hale family, shaking everyone’s hands, and ending with him and Talia hugging tightly.  Sure, it wasn’t the same as a marriage ceremony, and he could leave at any time, but honestly?  It still was a big deal for Stiles to be finally welcomed and be a part of a real pack.

With the formalities out of the way, it left everyone to wait until midnight, when the moon would hit its peak and force them all into their full shifts.  

Stiles and Derek retreated to Derek’s bedroom, deciding to catch some “sleep” before the night’s big event.  

As Stiles walked inside Derek’s bedroom, he gawked at the minimalist decor he hadn’t expected from a teenage jock like Derek.  Plain white walls, solid black furniture, and matching a soft black bed.  His closet, off in the corner, was organized by color, and neater than anything Stiles could ever manage.  

Though the redeeming factor came from the plasma tv on the wall, the entertainment center under it, and practically every gaming console since 1990 attached to it.  A computer desk in the distance sported a Hearthstone screensaver, and was stacked to the side with gaming magazines.

Really, the biggest “out of place” thing was the sports duffle bag in the corner, and a shelf of sports trophies that gathered dust in a corner.

“Stiles?  You okay there?” Derek asked.

Shaking his head, Stiles came back to the real world, and realized he’d been staring off into space for a solid couple of minutes.  All the while Derek had spent pulling back his bed covers and shucking off his t-shirt.

“Yeah!  Yeah, I’m fine just...   Wow.  You are a very neat person,” Stiles muttered, blushing as he wondered what Derek thought of his room.  Which, no it wasn’t a disaster, but also probably hadn’t been dusted in three years, or vacuumed in two.  This place?  Doctors could perform surgeries in this clean zone.

Derek snorted.  “Habit.  I shared a room with Laura until I was 10.  She would throw shit all over the floor, including food, and it sort of scarred me for life.  Poor Jordan, that’s all I’ve got to say,” he answered, as he clambered onto bed, making him comfortable on the silken white sheets.  “You want to catch some Z’s?  We’ll be up all night,” he asked.

“Wanting to get me in bed again?  Jeez, I don’t know about that.  My poor neck is still recovering from last night,” Chuckling, Stiles peeled off his own shirt, and climbed into bed with Derek.  He leaned onto Derek’s shoulder as they both sat up against the headboard, and body-length pillows.  Everything was soft, cool, and comfortable.  The light overhead showed off gentle red hickies that hadn’t completely healed.

They sat against one another, while Derek flipped on the TV, throwing on the Pandora radio, settling on a 90’s genre station.  

Stiles could smell the thrusts of bonding desire emanating from their body.  A desire for sex, for closeness, for loving and kissing and finishing the bond as their week together passed day after day, and...  Well, for breeding.  The latter, naturally, would not be happening anytime soon.  If Stiles could survive not riding Derek like a rollercoaster, Derek could be brave too.

Though that didn’t mean they couldn’t...  Be creative.

“So...   You didn’t like last night?  Darn.  Well, we don’t have to do that anymore, ever again,” Derek asked, sarcastically.  He nipped at Stiles’ ear, and Stiles purred in reaction.  

The smell, the need to be together, to be close, began billowing off each of them, tainting the room’s scent with a low grade musk.

Stiles rolled his eyes, leaning away from Derek’s attack on his ear.  “I do recall some cocky asshole talking about his Warwick main?  What happened to our games?  Thought I was gonna kick your ass?” he asked, as he rubbed his cheek against Derek’s neck.

“Mmm...  I know we said we’d play games, but...  I’d rather do this...” Derek said, with a playful grin.  

He pulled Stiles closer onto his body, and they both slid down the headboard.  Resting on the bed, Derek began gently rubbing circles into Stiles’ shoulder, and pressed several kisses on Stiles’ head.

Melting into Derek, Stiles let out a contented sigh.  Every touch of Derek’s skin shot a low heat up his veins, like a soft full-body massage.  

“Fuck games,” Stiles said, chuckling and leaning up to meet Derek’s lips with his own.  

At their awkward angle, they continued to gently kiss and caress one and other.  Which Derek ended as he grabbed Stiles, spun them around on the bed, and left Stiles flat on his back.  Derek, on top of him, on all fours, attacked Stiles’ neck with his teeth and lips, while his hands propped himself up.

Gasping as he felt Derek’s denim jeans rub up against his own, Stiles let out a short, playful moan.

“You’re...  You’re amazing, Stiles.  Where have you been all my life?  Why’d I have to wait until now?  Wasted years...  Could have...  Been...  Amazing friends...  God, you’re funny,” Derek panted out, in between his heated kisses.

 _“See what you have?”_ Stiles thought to himself.

Hitching his breath, Stiles threw his hands around Derek’s back. sinking a short set of claws into him.

Growling happily as he started to shift into his half-form, Derek resumed his assault a tad lower, kissing and nibbling little marks on Stiles'’ chest.

“ _You have a mate who loves you for the piece of trash that you are.  You’ve got a pack now that loves you for who you are!”_ Stiles said, feeling his chest leap into the air.

Gently lowering himself to meet skin-to-skin, Derek planted his hands underneath Stiles, grabbing and squeezing his ass through the denim jeans.

 _“Part of some Polish Pack?  A fucked up pear wolf thing?  Don’t be stupid, Stiles...  Be happy with what you’ve got.  You can’t have everything.  You’ll never have everything.  You’ll always be that sad, shitty tainted werewolf that got left behind.  Nothing will change that,”_ Stiles thought to himself.

Opening up his eyes, Stiles looked at the solid black brand on Derek’s neck.  The one that matched his own.  He smelt Derek’s arousal, his love, and his...  His joy.  

Letting out a short laugh, Stiles buried himself in Derek’s neck, holding him as tightly as he could manage.  

 _“This is real, Stiles.  You’ve got people that love you for the worthless thing you are.  You can have the family you want, the pack you want, and...  That’s enough.  That’s more than someone like you deserves,”_ Stiles thought to himself, joyfully.

Brought out of his head, Stiles squawked as Derek’s hands reached inside his jeans, touching...  The skin of his backside, and growling warmly.

“Can I?  Can I...  See you?” Derek asked, lapping his tongue up Stiles’ neck, with a low purr in his voice.

Continuing to squawk, Stiles came to his senses, realizing exactly where he was.  Who he was surrounded by.

“D...D...  Derek, werewolf house... I...  Is...  I...” Stiles muttered, unable to really finish a sentence as he gripped onto Derek’s hair for dear life.

Coming up for air, Derek’s hot breath panted against Stiles’ bare chest.  “Soundproof.  Pepaw soundproofed everything when my mom and dad bonded.  For everyone’s future benefit,” he said, with an eager grin.  

Glancing over to Derek, Stiles let out a bit of nervous laughter.

“G..  Go for it,” Stiles said, in faux-confidence.

Without much in the way of a delay, Stiles felt his jeans and underwear slowly slide off his body.  Derek leaned up for a moment, shucking the last of Stiles’ clothes off, and hiding his laundry basket perfectly.  

Flushing, Stiles immediately felt himself shiver in the cool air.  There he was, completely naked, in front of his mate.  Lil’ Stilinski was already hard from the earlier warm up, and Stiles thanked himself for manscaping in the shower that morning.

Though, Stiles felt a little self-conscious as little to no sound left Derek’s lips.  Fearing that he’d fucked up, Stiles warily glanced up to meet Derek’s gaze.  Which...  Eliminated the self-consciousness.

Derek eyed him like some sort of work of art.  Or a five course dinner.  Maybe both.  A work of priceless, beautiful art, that needed to be in Derek’s mouth yesterday.

Letting loose an excited growl, Derek fell off the bed getting his own jeans off, smacking his head against one of the bed’s legs.  All before popping back up on the bed, swearing while he rubbed a bump on his head, showing off his Alpha Hood and crawling on all fours, back on top of Stiles.  His eyes were hungry, red, and dripping with lust.

“My God...  You are...  Jesus, you’re perfect.  So smooth, so...  So hot,” Derek said, attaching his lips to Stiles’.  Yet, he slowly slid his dick up and down Stiles’ stomach, gathering friction at a furious pace, while Stiles’ own dick rubbed against Derek’s leg.  

“Mmmm...  mmmm...  Mfhhhfjfmmmmm...” Stiles mumbled in Derek’s mouth, thrusting up into Derek’s leg, while simultaneously grabbing as much beefcake ass as his lanky hands could manage.  He used his claws, pinching, rubbing, and massaging Derek’s backside, while Derek’s hands slowly braced themselves on Stiles’ shoulders.  

The touch, the skin, the feel of their hearts beating out of their chests, in a fervent unison, it set both of them onto the wild side.  

Stiles felt his body shifting, as Derek’s had.  He whined quietly, moving his hands to Derek’s cock, and slowly pumping up and down, in rhythm with the Alpha’s thrusts.

“Stiles!” Derek growled, biting down on his bottom lip, causing a short bleed to drip down his cheek.  He stopped thrusting, but also continued to rub his thigh against Stiles’ cock, to keep his mate aroused.  “Gonna...  Gonna cum...  Fuck,” he panted.

Leaning up, Stiles kissed at Derek’s face, and didn’t stop jerking at Derek’s dick.  “Don’t care...  Me...  Me too,” he moaned.  

Which...  Those admissions of having hair triggers would probably be embarrassing on both their parts.  They’d learn the subtlety of stamina and extended sexual play at a later time.  For now?

With a low growl, Derek resumed thrusting.  Yet, his pace increased, and he pulled Stiles closer up to his face, so that his thrusts and Stiles’ thrusts could be easier.  Derek’s cock found itself in Stiles’ groin, while Stiles’ rubbed up and down Derek’s chiseled abdomen.    

“Good...  Good...  so good,” Derek grumbled out, his words hard to find form with his fangs fully extended out of his mouth.

Releasing Derek’s dick, Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek’s back, bringing their bodies as close as they could manage.  Derek followed suit, bracing himself with one hand, and using his other hand to gently wrap behind Stiles’ head.  

“Mate...” Stiles fumbled out of his also fang-full mouth, attaching his mouth to Derek’s, and pressing the two of them into a warm, sensual kiss.

Growling into Stiles’ mouth, Derek came first, spurting over Stiles’ stomach and groin.  The mere scent of Derek’s satisfaction, coupled with the mingling of their scents shot Stiles off moments later, with his seed landing on Derek’s abdomen and chest.  

Instinct taking over, both men laid perfectly still, as Derek sunk his body into Stiles’, laying on top of him, and collapsing his head on Stiles’ neck.  They panted in unison, with allowing their scents to slowly trickle over their respective bodies, making each of their individual scents be erased, and a mixture of each other’s taking its place.  Their skin, pores, and varying glands contracted and expanded, to accommodate this new scent that would be their own.

Exhaustion set in, as both men closed their eyes and slowly shifted back into their full human selves.  Their hearts pounded, and each took great strains to continue touching.  Derek continued to gently stroke at Stiles’ head, while Stiles drew colorful words and patterns into Derek’s back.

With their eyes blown out, it took roughly ten minutes for their senses to truly return to them, still in a post-orgasm lull.

“We bonded,” Derek said, finally after some time.  

Stiles smiled quietly, pressing a kiss into Derek’s cheek.  “We did…  A little fast, but…  Felt good,” he replied.

Derek beamed, leaning his head up and letting their eyes gaze to one and other.  “We’re bonded.  I mean, it’s not like we’re married, but still, we’re...  We’re mates, officially,” he panted, unable to hide the glow in his words.

“We are...” Stiles said, contented as Derek gently rubbed his cheek against Stiles’.  

For several minutes, they continued to gently touch and kiss each other, both grinning and beaming at their newfound bonding.  Yet, it was soon ended as a low chill crept up their bodies.  As their varying amounts of fluids turned cold, sticky, and generally uncomfortable.

“Eww...” Stiles grumbled, as he found it hard to unstick himself from Derek.  

Derek flushed, chuckling in a low embarrassment.  “Yeah, uh...  Seemed like a good idea at the time?  I blame my instincts and your stupid sexy self,” he muttered.

Eventually, Derek leaned up from Stiles, sitting on the edge of the bed as Stiles slowly pulled himself out of the crater in Derek’s mattress that he’d been fucked into.

“I’ve got a shower bathtub thing in my bathroom,” Derek said, pointing to the closed door in the corner.  “We can uh, get cleaned up?  Maybe soak in a bubble bath?  Cuddle?” he asked.

Stiles couldn’t help but snort.

“Oh wow...  That sounds like simultaneously the best idea ever and a perfect example of how much of a romantic dork you are,” Stiles admitted.

Derek rolled his eyes.  “I take after Pepaw.  So sue me,” he said, as he stood up and quickly grabbed Stiles off the bed.  Carrying him bridal Stiles, Derek made his way towards his bathroom.

“HEY!” Stiles squawked, rather embarrassed, yet at the same time...  Swooned.

Derek chuckled.  “Love you, Stiles,” he said quietly.  He kissed Stiles on the cheek, before opening the bathroom door and starting up a warm shower that would clean off their bodies, and lead into a warm bubble bath that would let the newly bonded couple have ample time to share more of their intimate lives with one and other.

 

+++++

 

Memaw Hale stepped outside as the sun began to set in the distance.  A pink light crossed the land, and she gripped a hot mug of coffee in her hands.  Taking a deep breath of air, she felt Gregory’s arm wrap around her waist, as they made their way down the fenced railing on the front porch.  

They both walked to the side, where Ania Bernard stood against a rail.  Her head slammed repeatedly against a wooden rail, as tears ran down her face.

“Dearie…  Is he?  The one?” Memaw asked, as she and Gregory both stood next to the petite werewolf.

Ania shook her head.  “He hates himself…” she muttered quietly.  

Gregory shut his eyes, moving away from Betty and patting Ania on the shoulder.  “I knew he smelled like a Bernard.  First second he opened that door to his home, I was 60% sure.  Not that it mattered to him being Derek’s mate, that wasn't what I was concerned about, but…  He looks just like his father at that age too, I was…  Taken aback,” he muttered.

Ignoring Gregory, Ania let a low chuckle leave her throat.  “He told that Jordan boy…  He hates himself because he thinks he’s tainted.  He thinks that because…  He thinks we didn’t want him…  Thinks that...  He was a reject.  Something to be...  Ashamed of!” she muttered, wiping away her tears.  

Memaw sighed.  “Ania-”

Hiccuping, Ania laughed loudly.  “Didn’t want him!?  Didn’t…  Didn’t want him?!  We wanted ALL of them!  They were our babies!  Our precious babies!  Giving them up!?  That was the hardest decision of our lives!  Putting him on that hospital chair in the admitting area?  Hearing him CRY as we separated?!  Do you know how much I didn't want to wake up that night?!  How much I wanted to vanish, and never face myself again?” she exclaimed.

Gregory put his arm around Ania, hugging her tightly.  “You all did the right thing.  You know what happened to the other families that didn’t flee, or who let their names stay with their children.  They’re not with us anymore.  The Renalts, the Zabi, the Piers...  Even their children were publicly executed, Ania.  Your family is alive because of you and your family’s decision!  They were spared a horrifying death because of you!” he exclaimed.

Betty nodded in agreement.  “Ania, all of them lived wonderful lives.  You heard Jordan all week, and all about his loving family.  Stiles?  Stiles has a wonderful life too, with loving parents, and now he’s got Derek as a mate.  Peter’s found the others too, and they all seem to be in great places.  We can bring them all together again, Ania.  We can let them all know and meet each other.  Stiles can meet his sister, his cousins, and then you can all-”

“No!” Ania screamed, spinning around glaring angirly at the both of them.

Taken aback, the older weres glanced at each incredulously.

Ania wiped away her tears, stomping away from the older couple.  “What right do I have to call Stiles my son ,or any of the others my nieces and nephews?  What right do I have to be a part of their lives?  We abandoned them.  The Bernards abandoned them!  Even when the danger was over, we didn’t try to find them.  They were already TEN, old enough that they wouldn’t know our scents.  My siblings and I all agreed to leave them be, and live their new lives!  Finding Jordan…  That…  That should have never happened,” she exclaimed.  Shaking her head, she let out a soft sob.  “I’m locking myself downstairs for the moon, then I’m going back to New York.  I’m not going to interfere with Stiles’ life.  He’s got parents, and they were better than I could ever be.  The reason he hates himself?  That’s because of me.  I’m not going to make things worse,” she muttered.

“Ania!” Betty shouted, stopping the Omega in her tracks.  The older woman moved over and stopped in front of Ania.  “Your pack went through hell.  Entire families, wiped out in a blink of an eye.  The Bernards had two choices.  Flee or fight.  You and your husband, Aleksander, chose both.  He let the innocent children flee and live the lives they deserved, and fought, to make that happen.  When the danger wasn’t over, and when their name could potentially end their lives as the Helsings hunted across the globe, you all made the most difficult decision of your lives.  You took their names away, and let them have lives where they’d never have otherwise.  THAT is the kind of mother and aunt you are.  YOU gave them a life, at your own suffering!” she roared.

“I…” Ania muttered, dropping her head.

Betty grabbed Ania by the cheek, pinching it.  “Young lady…  You are too much like your son.   You blame yourself for everything, even though it’s not your fault.  You take all the despair, make it your own, and don't let anyone else in to help you.  Well I won't hear of it!” she said, pulling Ania back towards Gregory.  

The three stood among each other, in a quiet indifference, as Betty removed her hands from Ania’s face.

“Do you want to be part of Stiles’ life?  Do you want him to know about his family?  Do you want him to be proud of his past, of who he came from?  Do you want him to know how much his family loved him?  So that maybe he can start loving himself too?” Gregory asked, in a low tone.

Ania’s face crumbled.

“You said it yourself, Ania.  He hates himself because he thinks you didn’t want him.  What would happen if that lie were dispelled?” Betty said, with a warm smile.  

Falling forward, she pressed her face onto Gregory’s shoulders, as the older Alpha gently hugged and patted Ania on the back.

"Aleksander...  My little precious pear...  He's...  He's all grown up...  He...  He's so handsome..." Ania sobbed.

Betty smiled, picking up her mug of coffee from the railing and taking a slow sip.  "Tonight...  You can tell him yourself," she said quietly.


	8. Chapter 8

As much as Stiles would have appreciated spending the full moon in Derek's room, cuddled for warmth and affection under the sheets with their gentle touches, the Hales still managed to pester him and Derek out of bed and out into the clearing a few hours before the moon would be at its peak.

Stiles flushed as he walked hand-in-hand with Derek through the thick forest woods, as his ears shifted on the sides of his head, and his claws were already protruding.  Not that anything was wrong with that, the pull of the full moon had practically half-shifted the lot of them, but he knew what would be coming next.  His...  "uniqueness", as Claudia put it.  Which a tank top would hopefully hide until the last possible moment.

Though his embarrassment faded as a half-shifted Derek playfully nipped at his ear, earning a rather manly squeak out of Stiles.

"Why are you worrying so much?  I can smell it on you from a mile away," Derek said, as they ducked under a branch of a tree.

Stiles frowned.  "Nothing, just...  You know, this is my first run with a big pack," he said, in a "kind-of lie".  He was worried about that, but not JUST about that.

Which thankfully, Derek couldn't tell the difference.  They stepped into a massive clearing, lined with tents, a massive bonfire that lit up the night sky, and enough food and supplies sat out in coolers and bowls to last them through the entire night.  

"Stiles, you've got nothing to worry about," Derek said, pulling his mate closer as they walked towards the folding chair seating that surrounded the bonfire.  "It's just a run, and nothing is going to-"

Interrupted mid-sentence, both Derek and Stiles found themselves assaulted by Isaac, who clung onto them like a barnacle, leaping out of a bush with a loud cawing noise, not unlike a drowning bird.  The three of them fell, collapsing to the ground, while Isaac beamed.  His half-shifted form already showed signs of patches of fur, a midnight black, just like Derek and the rest of the Hales.

"FINALLY!  We've been waiting on you guys so we can start!" Isaac roared, play-biting Stiles on the neck, more gnaw than bite.  "You're it!" Isaac shouted, kicking off Derek and Stiles, and dashing off into the woods on the opposite end of the clearing.

Blinking quietly, Stiles sat back up, turning to Derek questioningly.  

Derek chuckled.  "Cheating bastards, every time.  They always make the last sucker to arrive be "it", and jump on them for a surprise attack.  The assholes are already probably around the clearing, hiding," he answered.

Touching his neck, Stiles gulped.  How the hell was he going to catch up to any of them?  They were the Hales, and he was...  A tainted runt.  This would turn into an outright spectacle.

Derek clapped him on the shoulder, growling playfully.  "Come on...  Anyone can catch Scott, he's slower than Christmas!" he said, kicking off his tennis shoes and digging his clawed feet into the ground.  He also pulled off his t-shirt, leaving him in just a pair of jean shorts against the brisk, cold air.  Not that he would be all that cold, considering the half-shift gave him an even more hairier chest and back than he already had.

Nodding, Stiles followed suit, kicking off his shoes, but leaving on his shirt.  His own bodily hair, and their screwed up coloring would be saved for later.

Derek took a deep sniff in the air, and grinned.  "Come on, got 'em," he growled, and like a shot, he was off.  

Following close behind, Stiles ran into the forest with Derek, on all fours, and dashing back and forth between the trees and branches.  Oddly enough, Stiles found himself keeping pace with Derek.  In reality, Stiles held back, given that Derek's bulky form seemed to slow him down considerably.  Odd, Stiles thought, given his own less than noble bloodline.  

Thoughts that vanished as Stiles' own nose piqued, and a panicked Scott dashed out of a bush, and ran for all his worth in a pair of shorts, just as shirtless and hairy as Derek this time of the month.

Derek snarled, nodding in Stiles' direction.  

Getting the picture, Stiles felt his eyes flash, and his legs and arms let loose their full strength.  Blasting past Derek, Stiles was on Scott's trail in a mere minute, just inches behind him and gaining fast.  Stiles leapt, as Isaac had done, and grabbed onto Scott, where they both rolled into a grassy patch, with Stiles barely able to hold onto the writhing, physically stronger Scott.  

Yet, somehow, Stiles leaned up, managed a playful bite on Scott's shoulder, and kicked off him, running away.  "It!" he called out, feeling a rush of adrenaline pump through his system.  Perhaps it was the full moon, the howls of congratulation from the other members of the pack for Stiles' catch, or the thrill of competition and bonding that came with this new pack that forced a laugh out of Stiles as he ran from Scott in a victorious pose.  

He and Derek were off, running as far from Scott as possible, and eventually losing him for the time being.  

The "run" was in full swing, if the howls, laughter, and noises from the rest of the pack were any indication.

Scott eventually tackled Jackson, with Isaac and Laura's help, getting the blonde Beta the new status as “it”.  A few minutes of griping from the bitter mate were stopped with a searing kiss from Scott to Jackson, and promising to “make it up” later.

Jackson nabbed Laura, after Cora tripped her sister to save her own skin.  To which Laura spent a solid ten minutes fuming and trying to catch and maul the “traitorous piece of shift”, only to be outran and outfoxed by the much tinier and faster teen.  

Laura piledrived Allison into the ground, after Allison pushed Lydia away to avoid Laura.  The over-dramatic as ever (as Derek put it), had Allison play-acting a death scene, complete with awkward coughing, and a gentle kiss between mates.  After several loud boos and demands for a cane to pull them "off-stage", the women were on their feet and hunting the source of the boos.

Isaac, unfortunately, found himself eating grass not a few minutes later, pinned by both women and begging for mercy he wouldn't get for a handful of minutes.

Though the “cheating bastard” was at it again, as he used the threat of a “sex embargo” to gather Scott and Jackson’s help in order to bring down Derek, who’d been unable to outrun the trio, and who Stiles could do nothing to help his mate without getting tagged himself.

Sat on Derek’s chest, Isaac bit at Derek’s neck, winking while the Alpha was held down by Jackson and Scott, who both struggled to keep their “prey” at bay.  

“Your mate is more competition than you are!  Come on guys!” Isaac said, laughing as he hopped off Derek.

Stiles stood over his mate, who growled at Isaac’s trickery.  Isaac blew Derek a kiss and was off, dashing into the forest and laughing.

Derek growled, turning to Stiles.  “The bastard is getting icy hot in his jock next week,” he spat out, wiping off the gentle red mark Isaac had left.  

Chuckling quietly, Stiles felt his heart racing, his breathing labored, but the adrenaline at an all time high.  

They both sniffed at the air for a moment or so, before catching onto a fresh, familiar scent.

Jordan.  

"Tag me, I'm faster," Stiles said, with confidence.  Because in all honesty, it was true.  For all Derek's strength and muscle mass, he was only slightly faster than some of Peter's kids, who Stiles saw off in the distance, getting their energy burned down thanks to Peter and the older members of the pack showing them the basics..

Not bothering to argue the point, Derek nibbled on Stiles' ear affectionately, "tagging" him.  After a quick kiss back to Derek's lips, Stiles leapt forward, as the two of them dashed to the nearest body they could track.  

A short yelp from Jordan later, and the Beta was off, running on all fours in his half-shifted state, bobbing and weaving in between the trees at the same speed as Stiles could manage.

Without even noticing, so caught up in the adrenaline and competitiveness, Stiles lost Derek, leaving the larger werewolf behind in his dust.  

The chase with Jordan lastest several minutes, until they reached a second clearing overgrown with fall's last remains of flowers that hadn't died quite yet.

Pushing himself as he would in a cross country's last leg of a race, Stiles kicked into high gear, pushed his legs to their absolute limit before finally leaping onto Jordan's back, and bringing them both teetering down to the ground, rolling over and over in a flurry of limbs.  

Jordan tried for a moment or so to wrestle away, to pin or otherwise put Stiles out of commision long enough to escape.  Both half-shifted men laughed as they grappled with their lanky arms, eyes flashing and bodies play-fighting with all their might.  The struggle lasted longer than was probably necessary, yet…  The blood and fervor of their hearts kept them going, as their unified laughter made it all seem so…  Casual.

While Jordan's body might have otherwise been physically stronger, Stiles' control was all the better.  They came to a stop after a few minutes, with Stiles pinning Jordan on the ground, and gently gnawing on Jordan's nose, "tagging" him right back.

Leaning up, Stiles grinned, panting and out of breath.  

Jordan laughed, chuckling underneath Stiles' body.  Like Stiles, Jordan opted for a small tank-top, to provide the slightest bit of warmth in the cold night.  The pulled each other in for a firm hug, laughing with each other, and finding an oddly warm sensation trickle from their chest outward, all the way to their fingers and toes.

"Okay, Stiles...  That was...  Holy shit that was fun.  Never seen anyone as fast as me," Jordan said, panting just as hard as Stiles was.  His wolfish features beamed.

Stiles beamed right back, as an oddly sweet scent emanated from Jordan and himself.  Something warm, like a baked good.  Homey.

Leaning down, Stiles bonked his head onto Jordan's and steadily took in this comforting scent.  Jordan too took deep breaths, while he also released them from their hug, but refused to take his hands away from Stiles' shoulder.  

The warmth faded, and both werewolves found tears popping in the corners of each of their eyes.  Stiles whined through his nose, and Jordan leaned back down, wiping away his tears, and unable to control a whimper in his throat.  Stiles put his hand on Jordan's shoulder as well, and each gripped the other as tightly as they could manage.  

This sudden onset of sadness provoked a new scent to permeate their skins.  An ever-so-faint smell, but one that both sent a shock down each of their spines.

Jordan, picking up on the scent as well, calmed down, as his smile faded into a curious, blank face.  Leaning up, he stuck his nose into Stiles' neck, and swallowed as much air as he could fit into his lungs.  Backing down, Jordan's eyes flashed.  "You...  You smell like..." he muttered quietly, as his heart began thudding wildly.

His own heart just as frantic, Stiles bent down as well, pressing his nose to Jordan's neck and drawing breath.  

Again, the warm, homey scent filled his nostrils.  Alongside another, much more familiar scent he would have otherwise missed, if not for the heightened senses of the full moon bringing his instincts to the surface.

Stiles' eyes blew out, and he backed his head away as both their eyes met.

"You smell like...  Me?" Stiles exclaimed, as curiosity filled his words.  The scent was unmistakable.

Beneath the warm scent that Jordan let out, Stiles could smell himself, only...  Not himself.  For lack of a better wording, Stiles could smell his own blood inside Jordan, intermixed with Jordan's own unique fragrance.  

Jordan sat up, as Stiles unpinned him, both werewolves glanced at each other incredulously.

"Fuck that, you smell like ME!" Jordan accused, leaning his head in for another sniff.  He backed away, shaking his head impossibly.  "No way...  It's there!  I can't miss it!  That's ME!  That's my scent!  Sure, I smell Derek, your pack, your parents, and you, but...  That's my scent!" he exclaimed.

"H...  How?!" Stiles fired back, as he and Jordan both turned their heads to the forest's edge.  They spotted Laura and Derek, cautiously edging towards them both, with worry on their faces.

"Everything okay?  You guys...  You guys are kind of-" Laura said, as her nose piqued in the air as she came close to their sides, their scents both hitting her nose in unison.  Her eyes, like Jordan and Stiles', went blank.  "No...  No way," she said, turning to Derek.  "Do you smell that?  Underneath their other scents?  That can’t be what I think it is?" she asked.

Derek beelined for Stiles and Jordan, who both stood up from the ground.  He took a deep breath from both of them, and nodded in Laura's direction.

"There's no mistaking it," Derek said, with a forlorn expression draped across his half-shifted face.  "Faint.  They've never been around one and other, so it's just in the blood.  We'd never catch it unless it was a full moon, and all our senses heightened," he said, closing his eyes.

"It?" Stiles asked, turning to Jordan with a confused gaze.

Jordan, equally curious, turned back to Derek and Laura.  "What are you guys talking about?" he asked.

Covering her mouth Laura too sniffed the air between them.  "Good Lord...  Even when they're right next to each other it's...  It's so faint!  They're not directly, but maybe...  Distantly?  No, it's strong than distant.  Definitely within a branch," she muttered.

Stiles' forehead twitched.  "WHAT IS DISTANT?!" he demanded to know, as he changed his expression between Laura, a crestfallen Derek, and an equally impatient Jordan.

With his head raised slightly, Derek sighed under his breath.  "You share a blood scent.  It's a smell deep in your blood, that never goes away.  Blood relatives share this scent, and  normally, being around and with your family would strengthen that scent, but it's apparent that it hasn't happened.  It's faint, but there," he explained.

"B...  Blood...  Relatives?" Stiles asked, as his chest pounded heavily.

Jordan's face lit up.  "You...  You're saying Stiles and I are...  Are?" he muttered quietly, in disbelief.

"Most likely.  I'd say cousins," Laura added, turning to Derek.  "Brother and sister blood scents are stronger, since we share the same parents.  Yours is a little...  Weaker?  Meaning you, at the very least, each share at least one grandparent.  So a cousin is the only reasonable conclusion to draw," she added.

"Cousin?!" Stiles exclaimed, turning to meet Jordan's face.  Which...  There it was, staring him right in the face.  

Their builds, the disadvantaged eyesight, the shared concept of being "Tainted", down to their pale complexion, and their brown hair.  The similarities were stunning, really.  

"Ania...  Ania said I had a cousins, scattered over the country," Jordan exclaimed, turning to Stiles.

"Stiles is a member of the Bernard family," Laura said, with a distant gaze on her eyes.  "Oh...  Oh my God..." she exclaimed, in disbelief.

"Aleksander Bernard.  We know his birth name," Derek said, touching the brand on his neck.  

Stiles could barely breath.  He felt his chest tighten, and the world start to go blurry.  Because...  If Stiles was Jordan's blood cousin, and if he was named Aleksander, a name all too familiar from the Hale family wall, then that would mean-

"Aleksander Ramsey Bernard V," Ania said.

The four jumped out of their skin, watching as Ania walked across the clearing.  Her head was down, hands balled into fists and in her own half-shift.  Varying members of the Hale pack had gathered in the clearing, watching in awe, as their game of "Tag" had given birth to a brand new spectacle.

Stiles couldn't lift his head.  Ania was Jordan's Aunt.  Meaning that if Stiles was Jordan's cousin, it made Ania Bernard his...  

Ania stopped short of the group, taking a deep breath.  "The oldest son of the Bernard family was always named Aleksander, after Aleksander Bernard I.  No matter, Alpha, Beta, or Omega, they would be tasked with running the family when they came of age, to continue their great legacy,” she explained.

Coming to Stiles' side, Derek put his arm around Stiles, as his face and demeanor dropped.  "So that means that Stiles' family..." he muttered.

Stiles felt his blood turn cold.  

Ania glanced away, turning her back to Stiles.  "Stiles is a Bernard.  There were 50 of us living in the same home, but around 80 members of the family in total across our lands.  Of those..  There are 12 of us living to this day.  Myself, by brother, his wife, and the pack's littlest ones we were able to carry to safety," she admitted.

Derek's hands tightened their grip on Stiles' shoulder, and he pulled his mate closer.

Ania gently lifted her head, staring up into the night's sky.  "Aleksa-...  Stiles.  I'm sure you realize now that..."

"You're my mother," Stiles said quietly.  A vortex of emotions swirled in Stiles' stomach.  Anger.  Happiness.  Sorrow.  Joy.  Though most of all...  Fear.  

Fear of everything.

"Stiles..." Derek muttered, turning down and watching the Omega's color drain as chatter broke out between most of the Hales in the woods.  

Though his eyes performed a double take as he watched Stiles' arms begin to grow fur.  Though unlike Derek's, unlike anyone else's in the clearing, it was a solid white fur that grew at an exponential rate.  Turning to his side, Derek watched Jordan's arms follow suit, covering him in a plethora of snow white hair.  Across the clearing, Ania's brown head of hair slowly faded into white.  "W...  What?  Your fur, it's....  White?" Derek asked.

"Our lands were white as snow most of the year.  It's only natural we would evolve to shift into a wolf that could hide in plain sight.  Away from the hunters, and to stalk our prey with the most efficiency," Ania added, turning around as her half-shift turned far more pronounced, and a majority of her body glowed like the white of the moon.  "Most European werewolves are white, or a pale blonde depending on their environment.  Further east, they’re silver.  The middle eastern wolves are a sandy brown color.  While the most common, black is not the only fur in this world, young man," she explained.

Stiles hitched his breath.  

_"I'm tainted and weak."_

_"I'm a freak who's white and pale on the full moon."_

_"I'm a rejected wolf whose parents never wanted him.  I'm a mark of shame."_

Shaking, Stiles barely registered Derek's touch anymore.

_"The Bernards were the most brilliant minds of their generation, favoring their human side over their wolf side."_

_"Our lands were white as snow...  it's only natural we would evolve to shift into a wolf that could hide in plain sight."_

_"I hid our pack's children throughout the country.  I knew they would be fine..."_

Everything he'd ever known about himself, or his life?  His weaknesses?  His shame?  They were...  Pointless?  

"Stiles?  Stiles, you okay?  Your heart is..." Derek asked quietly.

"Everyone?" Stiles said, interrupting Derek, as he turned to face his mate, and the surrounding pack members as a whole.  "Can...  Can I talk to Ania alone?  I...  I need to do this on my own," he asked politely.

A low murmuring surrounded the area, in varying forms of agreement.  Derek, Laura, and even Jordan all nodded as well, making their way out off the clearing, leaving Stiles and Ania all on their own in the middle of the forest clearing.  Focused on a vibrant red flower, blooming well late in the season, Stiles took a deep breath.

 

++++

 

Sitting in the middle of the clearing, across from his biological mother, Stiles still couldn't bare to look her in the eyes.  Or even talk, for that matter.

Shy of two decades of wondering about what kind of people his parents were, why he was what he was, and years of self-doubt and hatred were all converging into one overpowering, quizzical emotion that he couldn't exactly describe.

Ania tucked her knees under her face, sitting in a similar manner as Stiles.  

"I...  I'm sure you have questions," Ania muttered.

Stiles gripped his pants tightly, forming a fist with his hands.  

"I..." he stuttered.

Years of planning, years of questions, and yet...  He couldn't form a single sentence.  There was too much, too fast.  This woman, beside him, was his MOTHER.  Not only that, but she was also a woman who'd abandoned him, not for his failings, but rather...  To save his life and the lives of the other children in his pack.  A pack who had ultimately given the Hales the knowledge of how to achieve their goals, and been a rich, thriving pack in Europe.  By all right, Stiles was not, in fact, a Tainted werewolf who'd been abandoned out of shame.  He was a werewolf of a noble line, with a family who died to save his life.  They’d loved him.  They’d loved him enough to give up their lives.

That alone rocked Stiles’ world, but partnered with the other knowledge from Jordan?  Cultural and regional evolution had turned him into what he was.  This was a common thing.  He wasn’t broken, tainted, or “wrong”.  No…  Stiles was normal, normal for his race.

Then there was his blood.  Of all the fuss he’d made about it, of his blood being tainted?  He…  He was noble!?  Him of a people!?  

Ania chuckled.  "Your father...  He had that same face when he thought about too many things at once.  You remind me so much of him when he was younger…  Handsome, smart, loving, and…  Too stuck in his own head to ever notice me until I finally had to ask him out myself!" she said, biting her bottom lip.

Stiles' eyes flickered.  "M...  My father..." he said, gulping.  

Recalling Ania's earlier conversation, Stiles realized quickly that his father...  His father was dead.  Died protecting him. Stiles’ father was a hero to his family, and a hero to the world of the supernatural.  Someone Gregory and Betty Hale respected.  That…  That was the blood in his veins.  

Grazing her hand over Stiles' hand, Ania shut her eyes.  "Alek...  Alek was a good man.  He loved you  dearly, and...  There was barely an hour that passed without him holding one of you or your cousins...  Hiding in our bunkers, away from the Helsings, he always made sure his babies were always happy.  “They’re our hope” he’d always say," she said, sniffling back a tear.  

Stiles felt ice rush through his veins, as sorrow for a man he'd never known washed over him.  

"He uh...  He was the one who suggested the plan," Ania said, breaking Stiles' stunned look.  "Alek knew we wouldn't last the dark years, and we had no idea how long they would last.  The other Polish clans were already dead, and he knew that someday we would face that same horror.  Watching as our loved ones, from the youngest pup to the oldest elder, would be murdered violently.  So...  He did what he did best...  He made the impossible possible," she said, in a proud tone.

Stiles glanced over, watching his mother's warm golden eyes flash fondly.  

Ania chuckled again.  "A full on frontal assault with our remaining numbers, to cripple the Helsing's main forces that were hunting us and many others.  That would allow the children to escape to the east and find sanctuary in the United States, while simultaneously giving other packs in Europe a chance to escape, with the Helsings in disarray.  "Our future as the Bernard family, and the future of our species in the Eastern Continents  depend on it!" he said so boldly, in that loud tone of his.  Passionate...  That was your father, passionate about everything and everyone in his life, even when it meant bad things for himself..." she said, warmly.

"I..." Stiles muttered, still finding it difficult to form words.  So much information and emotions were crammed in his head, it was hard to sort any of it out.  Yet, he took a deep breath, and composed himself.  "I..  I always wondered why I'd been abandoned...  I guess...  I guess I know now," he said quietly.  Not precisely the question he wanted to ask, but it was what he managed to get out of his mouth.

The small semblance of a smile from Ania dropped.  "Stiles...  I heard you earlier in the evening with Jordan.  How you think you were abandoned because you were tainted, and that your pack didn't want you," she said, shaking her head furiously.  "Stiles...  Your family adored you.  In those dark days, you were a bright light that gave us hope.  I...  I feared having children when we were being hunted as we were, and yet...  Your father, our pack, we all chose to have hope.  You, Jordan, your cousins?  You were all born because we had faith in humankind, faith in the Hales, and faith in your father's plan.  Even as he developed his plan, your father...  He never regretted the decision, and still kept his faith that everything would work its way out, eventually.  You and the pups...  You were our living hope.  Hope that one day our dreams would come true," she said, choking at the end as she wiped away a set of tears.  "..and you did.  All of you live in a world now where the supernatural  can be considered equal, and every year is a new stepping stone towards true equality.  School integration, political involvement, and...  Humans adopting werewolves, and raising them to be the strong, intelligent individuals, like any other human," she said, proudly at the end as she wiped away a set of tears.  "Stiles...  Your father...  I know he's smiling in the Heavens, proud of his son that stayed strong all these years, and being part of a human family, proving the world how deep bonds between our species can be.  I...  I owe him for a bet now, I suppose.  I told him when we were kids it was impossible," she chuckled.

Stiles covered his chest.  He pictured the man in the photograph he'd seen earlier, the one wrapped around Gregory's embracing hug.  Somewhere, in the distant recesses of his mind, he might have even heard a man's soft laughter.  Or perhaps he imagined it.  Either way, his body felt...  Lighter, somehow.

"I...  I wanted to see you sooner," Ania said, gripping Stiles' hand tightly.  "I knew you'd been adopted by humans.  I never bothered to ask who, but I knew...  I knew I could find you the easiest," she admitted quietly.  

Turning to Ania, Stiles frowned.  "W...  Why didn't you?  Talia's treaty with the Helsings...  That was signed when I was younger, right?  It outlawed hunting of innocent werewolves!  I shouldn’t have been in danger anymore!" he asked, a tad loudly.

Ania shook her.  "By the time the treaty was signed, the international governments were on-board, and the rogue Helsings were rounded up, you were already older than 10, I...  I didn't want to disturb the life you had.  I just assumed you, and the rest of your family, would want to stay with their new families and packs.  Maybe...  Maybe I even worried you'd hate me for what I'd done," she added at the end, with a shaky tone.

A silence grew between them.  Stiles felt tears growing in his eyes, which dribbled onto Ania's hand.  

They glanced up, meeting eye to eye for the first time.  Their golden eyes reacted, and a scent identical to the one Stiles had experienced with Jordan billowed off them.  The warm, familiar smell of home.

"I...  I don't hate you.  I don't know you..." Stiles said, biting his bottom lip.  

Ania's face dropped.

"But...  I want to...  If...  I can," Stiles said, with a weak, pathetic smile.

Ania' face stilled.

"I want to know my family.  I mean, I'm not leaving my mom and dad, they're my family too, but...  I mean...  I kind of always wanted a big family," Sties said, chuckling quietly.

Feeling her tears cascade down her face, Ania nodded fervently.  "Yes!  Yes, of course!  I...  I want to know you too!  I want to know all about my adorable little pear," she screeched, in unbridled joy.

Without any warning, the moon reached the peak of the night sky.  Stiles and Ania embraced tightly, just as a swirl of light engulfed them both.  Mother and son, hugging each other once again, after 18 years of separation.  Which didn't change as the light faded, leaving two snow white wolves in the field of flowers.  Both lankily built wolves, with little muscle mass, but long, tall legs.  Stiles' head laid on Ania's, as they nuzzled each other, whining through their noses.

A low purr across the field caught their attention, as they both turned to face a third fully shifted wolf, a pale white male, with gentle blue eyes.  Jordan's scent emanated, and both Ania and Stiles smiled fondly.

With their nod of approval, Jordan rushed to their side, tackling Stiles to the ground in a playful gesture, licking a gentle kiss on Stiles' face.  Ania trotted over, nuzzling Jordan as well, and giving a gentle lick, to kiss her son and nephew.  A family, reunited at last.

Their ears piqued, and they glanced over to the forest's edge.  Standing as sheepishly as Jordan had, a large male werewolf in a pitch black fur sat on his hindquarters, showing his massive chest with a bowed head.  Beside him, a female werewolf of a similar build and fur coloring sat as well.

Stiles smiled, taking in the scent of his mate, and his mate's sister.  

Jordan and Stiles turned to Ania, who shrugged, gently pushing them towards their mates, as if to push them to go and have a fun time.  Ania smiled, barking once to shoo her son and nephew off.

Nodding, Jordan and Stiles ran to Derek and Laura's sides, before the four would spend the rest of the night resuming their game of tag they'd started what felt like ages earlier.

Ania stood proudly, gently laying down in the middle of the field of flowers, and listening to the sounds of her son having the time of his life with his family.  A joyful sound she'd always dreamed of hearing, but never thought she would.  

She felt a warm presence beside her, and opened her eyes.  While she saw nothing, the phantom scent of a man long gone filled her lungs.

 _"You're watching too, aren't you?"_ Ania thought to herself, shutting her eyes and enjoying the fantasy a while longer.  Even if he wasn't there in person, she could feel and sense his presence among them that night.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updates! I've been super busy, but I'm now on the downward trend! Just two chapters to go! The final chapter in chapter 9, and then the epilouge in chapter 10.
> 
> So that means I'll be working on a new story shortly! I'd love to have your opinions on what kind of story you'd like to read!
> 
> Again, thanks for reading and all the support!


	9. Chapter 9

_To:  aniahale@halenet.com_

_From:  SStiles@bhhs.com_

_Subject:  Hiya!  :)_

_Ania,_

_Just got home from the movies with Derek, and I can't really get to sleep.  My studly Alpha's all-nighter game is seriously weak!  An hour into Netflix, and he's curled up in the couch snoring like a Wookie._

_Probably the full moon coming soon again this next week, that always gets sleep schedules screwed up, for me at least.  \_

_...Seems hard to believe that it's already been a month since all the craziness happened._

_Mom and Dad still ask about you a lot, and want to hear updates on you and the hunt for the rest of the Bernards.  (So do I!)  It was unreal to Skype with people that I'm actually related to!_

_Don't tell Jordan, but Cousin Tina was without a doubt my favorite person to chat with since last month.  She and her boyfriend are professional gaming streamers, and that is just incredibly awesome!  (They sent me a T-shirt and a coffee mug!).  Though it was a little awkward to meet my sister.  She cried, I cried, there was a lot of awkward crying and snot, and that was just...  You know, one of those emotional moments you're never going to be able to forget.  (We're going to meet each other during Spring Break!  Mom and Dad are flying with me to Florida to spend a week with her family on the beach!  In the meantime, we Skype on the weekends.  Like you and me, we're getting to know each other slowly, and as friends, rather than family.)_

_Between that, and getting to know you over these emails, phone calls, and Skype?  I feel like...  I've got more in my life now than just mom and dad.  I've got my bonded pack with the Hales, and now I've even got a birth pack.  I'm kind of like Derek, in that way.  We both want a big family and a big circle of friends, and I feel like I've got that now.  :)_

_...  You do realize how fucked up my family tree is going to be?  Oh good Lord...  My kids are going to have a million cousins, werewolf and human both.  I can already picture the reunions!_

_Haha...  Never thought I'd have any of this.  It's crazy how you can spend your whole life being depressed about your circumstances, and one door to the nose later, and you've got everything you wanted and more...  Because I do._

_I've got Derek, the best mate in the world.  I've got the Hales.  I've got friends.  I've got my mom and dad.  I've got my birth pack, and I've got you.  Everything I thought I could never have, and I've finally found it all._

_...Yeah, enough with the mushy stuff.  I'm tearing up..._

_OH!  Happy(ish) news!_

_You may have already heard, but Isaac's eating for three after that bout of unprotected bonding last month!  (Twins!)  At first, the poly trio were scared to death, and even missed a few days of school.  They're a little better now.  Talia, Melissa, Jackson's dads, and my own mom have promised to support the three of them.  Jackson and Scott will still get to go to college, and after the babies are old enough to be weaned, Isaac's going to school as well.  (Pepaw has already called "dibs" on being their daycare, and the old man is finally "really retiring this time he swears").  Things are still rough for the three of them.  Scott's overprotective of Isaac and his condition, Jackson's being quiet and lost in his own head worrying over everything, Isaac's worried about being like his own failure of a father, and I don't think they've been more than 20 feet apart since the news, or too far from their bed, where they curl up for hours at a time, whining and comforting each other._

_They'll turn around.  Mom's going to be Isaac's support system for all the medical stuff, and the two of them are going shopping next week together for "the essentials".  I'm tagging along too, and we're making a weekend of it out of town.  Derek's going to take care of Scott, and Jackson's dads are taking Jackson on a trip.  We're going to help them get through this!  Without a doubt!_

_...though I can only imagine what Isaac's thinking.  Derek and I still haven't had "sex sex" (penetrative) since last month.  We fool around, sure, that's just natural to be a werewolf, but...  As much as I want a family, I don't want one right now.  While I may not know what my future's going to hold, I know I need time to accomplish things on my own.  So what if I can't have Derek's..._

_Did I really just talk about my sex life with you?    Okay, switching topics, ASAP.  D:_

_Haha..._

_School's a lot of the same, and I'm still making a lot of new friends.  Being Derek's mate introduced me to a lot of people (people who also apparently liked me, what the literal hell?!)  Ethan Crawford and Danny Mahealani bonded at the end of the Bonding Month, and after Ethan tried to apologize a thousand times for his asshole brother, we finally struck up a friendship.  Ethan's such a sweet guy, and Danny is insanely funny.  We've double dated a few times, me, Derek, and the two of them, and really had a blast!_

_Our lunch table is gigantic now, and the teachers keep getting pissed off that we slide tables together and screw up the layout.  Still, it's insanely fun to finally have a huge group to be around!  I've really gotten close to Isaac and Scott, and the three of us hang out a lot when I'm not with Derek.  Though Lydia and I have started a rather heated rivalry.  We're in the final stretch for valedictorian, and it's full on war.  Only one will survive, and it's going to be me!_

_Oh!  Speaking of school, I was accepted into Signal College, I got my acceptance letter last week!  You know, Beacon Academy's sister school about a mile down the road?  I'd applied to a lot other Universities, but I got the standard "we cannot accommodate werewolves" bullshit rejection letter.  Actually, a lot of us got that.  Scott, Derek, Laura, Jackson, Jordan, Isaac, and Lydia were also accepted into Signal.   Allison won't be going, she's training with her parents and mercenaries to be a personal security guard in the Argent Security Business.   Lydia tried to take Harvard to court on the basis of discrimination, but the Hale Legal team says none of us have any ground.  Because, unfortunately, the Government still hasn't gotten around integrating humans and nonhumans into same schools, and the law lets each school/university choose on what kind of school population they can have.  Sucks, but that's just the way it is..._

_Though I'm not all that torn up.  At least Signal recognizes mated couples rooming together, so Derek and I will be sharing a suite with Laura and Jordan!  (Thank God...  Soundproof rooms like at the Hale house.  The nuns would KILL Jordan with the things he and Laura have done and that we've had to hear about!)_

_Oh, and please, for the love of God, do not ask me what major I'm going to pick._

_Since the acceptance letters, it's ALL anyone has talked about!  Scott's going into the medical field (isn't sure between nursing, veterinary, and pharmacy), Jackson is going for Business (meet the next Donald Trump, just with better hair and a bigger mouth), and Lydia's decided to go into teaching ("The standards of the education system in this country is abhorrent!  I won't stand for it." she says.  I feel bad for the board of education after she gets her license!)._ _Isaac's not sure if he'll finish college yet, what with the babies.  If he does, he says it'd probably be in educaiton, so he could have summers off with them.  Laura and Derek?  Well, probably social sciences.  Laura's already planning to follow in her mother's footsteps, though Derek's on the fence.  Jordan would go to seminary school, except for the whole "unholy abomination" that most religions paint us as, though he says he plans on going into social sciences instead, to "help the werewolf kids that nobody thinks about!"._

_Me?_

_I have no idea.  Not a one._

_I suppose I just always pictured my future in the world of humans, since I never thought I'd be accepted in the world of werewolves._

_This is going to sound stupid, but...  I always thought I'd work on Mr. Hingleblotter's farm, maybe going into Agriculture Studies, and starting a farm of my own.  One that my parents could move in at after they retired and needed taking care of.  The knowledge that I'll outlive them by 50-100 years is terrifying to me, and has been on my mind for a while now of how they're going to be taken care of.  Though that's a topic for a different time...  A time a long way from now, I hope.  :(_

_Anyway..._

_I never thought about leaving Beacon Hills, or even getting that far away from home.  I know I'm smart, but up until now, I've never...  Well, I guess I never thought I was good enough to do anything big in my life.  That being a tainted werewolf would limit my opportunities in life._

_Now?_

_Frankly, I don't know what to do.  What do you think?  Did you ever-_

Stiles looked up from his e-mail, sighing painfully.  Deleting the last half of his email, he didn't feel comfortable talking about that kind of "future life" stuff with Ania.  

Even a month later, they didn't have that kind of relationship.  Their relationship was friendly, bordering on loving, and grew with each week as they got to know each other through email and Skype since she moved back to her home in New York , but...  Well, if Stiles wouldn't talk to Derek about this kind of stuff, he certainly wouldn't talk about it with Ania.  Maybe someday, but that day hadn't come.  Her plans to move her life and work to Beacon Hills had been delayed by helping Peter with the International Project, as well as tracking down the rest of the Bernards, with her goal to completely reunite the family, with a trip to Poland to visit their old territory.

Running his hands through his hair, he took in the sights of the Stilinski living room, trying to keep his mind away from the stressful topic running over his head.

The room, save for a small lamp beside the couch and a paused scene on Netflix, was pitch black.  Derek was snoring quietly to his side, with the Alpha's head gently touching Stiles' hip.  His hands were grabbed onto Stiles' waist, holding onto him for dear life, like a life-sized teddy bear.

"Can't sleep?" Claudia whispered.

Turning his head to the backdoor of the house, Stiles watched as his mother came in from her late shift at the Hospital.  She pulled out her ponytail, letting her long hair cascade down her head.  

Stiles glanced down at Derek, watching his Alpha still snoozing.  He couldn't help but smile.  As an Alpha, Derek already trusted Stiles' human parents and felt secure in the Stilinski home as if it were his own.  Otherwise, he would have woken up, alerted to a "threat" to himself and his mate.  So Claudia's voice had already soothed the big bad werewolf.  

"We were going to do a movie marathon.  Guess you see how that turned out," Stiles whispered, quietly shutting his laptop and joining his mother in the kitchen.  

Already pulling out a pitcher of tea from the refrigerator, Claudia chuckled.  "Your father is the same.  I remember when we first got married, he'd be snoring ten minutes into a TV show.  Now he's down to two," she said, pouring tea into two tall glasses.

Stiles took a glass, smiling as he and his mother sat together at the kitchen table.

"How was work?  Another long one?" Stiles asked.

Claudia huffed, running her fingertips through her hair.  "Terrible.  Nurse Reeves is out on maternity leave, and I've been covering her shifts until they get a new nurse, or I collapse from fatigue.  Either way, it sucks," she explained, chugging her first glass of tea down, before pouring herself a new one.

"Sorry..." Stiles said, frowning.

Putting her glass to the side, Claudia smiled.  "Well that's life, Stiles.  Periods of time when we're happy and laughing, and periods of time where we want to scream into a pillow and eat Velveeta right out of the box until we stop crying.  But...  We always get through them both, just like I'll get through this hell of work hours, and go back to my shift in the Maternity ward," she said, with a calm smile.  She glanced up, meeting Stiles' eyes.  "Right now...  I think you're about in the middle," she said.

"Huh?" Stiles asked, as he took a sip of his tea, cocking an eyebrow at his mother's statement.

Claudia giggled.  "Sweetheart, I know you too well...  I know this last month has been good for you, but I can still see those tense little shoulders, that wrinkled forehead, the way you've got three thousand thoughts keeping your eyes distant from our conversation, and the entire bag of coffee that went missing yesterday.  You're stressed, but I can tell you're happier," she explained.

Stiles mentally cringed.  There was no lying to his mother.  She had the kind of mom radar that would make Talia Hale's senses seem dull.

"Come on, out with it.  What's going on in that sweet head of yours?  I would think you'd be less stressed these days," Claudia asked.

Shutting his eyes, Stiles sighed loudly.  "A lot of things, really," he said, glancing away and looking out the kitchen window at the near-full moon.  He could smell the scent of  winter fast approaching.  "My major at Signal College.   My future.  Where I stand in this world.  Meeting my biological family.  Finding out all this...  Stuff about me.  Thinking about everything that's going to happen now, and what I'm supposed to be doing!" he grumbled.

Patiently, Claudia nodded.  

"I don't know what to do..." Stiles said, shaking his head.  "It's like my whole life has been turned upside down, and as much as I love parts of it, the other bits?  I just..." he muttered, pausing.  He felt his chest burning, as anxiety and worry overtook his senses.  

Claudia reached across the table, taking Stiles' hands in her own.  "It's okay, sweetheart," she said, gently patting his hands.

Calming down, Stiles took a deep breath, and felt his racing heart slow down.  

Moving herself to sit next to Stiles, Claudia wrapped her hand around Stiles' shoulder.  "Stiles...  Do you remember the first time you ever met our extended family?  When you met John's brother?" she asked.

Stiles shook his head.  "No...  I mean...  I was probably little, right?" he asked.

Claudia nodded.  "Oh yes...  You were four years old.  John's brother had been the first person we let meet you in the family, what with all of the drama and situation going on in those days with werewolves, we worried about their reactions and what they might say to you.  And...  I'd never seen that man that angry before in my life," she said, with a pained expression.

"What?!" Stiles exclaimed, feeling his stomach sink.  Did... Did Uncle Ben really hate him?  They'd always gotten along so well, and had always been close.

"Oh, no, Stiles, don't worry...  He wasn't angry at you, per se...  Rather, he'd been a small minded man, who still felt like werewolves and the supernatural were "out to get us"," Claudia explained, holding up both hands immediately.  "That's why I remember it so well..  That day was when I knew what a special boy you were," she said, in a more fond expression.

"Huh?" Stiles asked.

Claudia shook her head.  "There you were...  A small werewolf, barely up to your father's waist, and hearing adults yelling and fighting so angrily...  I worried you'd shift and attack Ben, fearing he would hurt us.  Yet...  You didn't," she said, smiling brightly.  Chuckling, she pulled Stiles closer into her grasp.  "Instead...  You kept quiet the entire time, and when we all sat down to dinner to try and calmly discuss everything, you sat next to Ben.  When dinner was over, and Ben was still being a stubborn fool, you offered him your slice of chocolate cake.  You said something to the effect of "You smell sad, you can have my cake Uncle Ben," she said, in a low laugh.

"I did?" Stiles asked.  

Nodding, Claudia hummed playfully.  "Ben cried that night after we'd all left.  He called and apologized for the way he'd acted to a child, though he wouldn't actually apologize about fearing the "supernatural menace".  Things didn't warm up until later, well after things had calmed down in the political realm and everyone realized how well-tempered the supernatural were, but by the time you were five or six, the whole family knew about this "sweet little wolf" that everyone wanted to meet," she said warmly.  She released Stiles from her hug.  "Stiles...  You're a good man with a bright heart, and the kind of caring that I know this world needs.  So as far as I'm convinced, I know that whatever path you choose in life is going to be the right one.  I've known that since you were a little boy," she said, shaking her head.  "So, your mother's advice?"

Stiles felt his mother's determined heart beating proudly.  He could smell her pride, and feel the excitement radiating off her body.

"Follow your heart.  Do what makes "Stiles" happy.  Don't do what will make the Hales, your father and I, or your biological family happy.  Because, in the end, this is your life.  Your father and I believe in you, and we know you'll do great no matter where life takes you.  So..." Claudia said, before pecking a kiss on Stiles' head.  "Don't worry about it right now.  You'll figure everything out, and at your own pace.  Whether it be at 18, 20, 30 or even 40, I know you'll find the life you always wanted.  After all...  You found half of it last month, this young already, didn't you?" she explained, nodding in Derek's direction.

Stiles smiled, and felt a gentle warmth in his chest.   A contented, relaxing sensation.

The two turned their attention back into the living room, as Derek let out a rumbling growl-snore.  He fussed in his sleep, uncomfortable as he arms kept seeming to search for a familiar body that was no longer there.  

"He's a giant puppy.  To think Mr. Darton was worried about such a big werewolf staying over all the time.  I think Monaca Darton's more of a threat than Derek," Claudia whispered, chuckling to herself.

Stiles rolled his eyes as the two stood up from the table.  Claudia yawned, and Stiles gave her one last hug for the night.

"Thanks, mom.  I love you," Stiles said, tucking himself closer into the hug.

Claudia hugged back just as fiercely.  "I love you too, Stiles.  And..." she said, as tears and a low choke caught her throat.

Breaking the hug, Stiles watched his mother slowly let tears roll down her cheek.  Yet, she smiled, wiping them away.  

"And...  I'm happy that I can see that smile of yours more and more these days...  Please...  Please don't ever lose that smile...  Okay?  I...  I don't want to ever see you unhappy like you were...  Ever...  Ever again." Claudia begged.

Stiles felt a punch to his stomach.  "M...  Mom?" he asked, feeling his own secondhand sadness rearing its ugly head?

"Mom?!  Stiles?!" Derek growled, springing sleepily to life off the couch, as he stood up, ran into a wall, tripped over his feet, and face planting into the kitchen floor.  

Claudia and Stiles spun around, watching as Derek scrambled back up to his feet, in half-shift with blood running down his nose profusely.  

"What's wrong?!  Why are you crying?!  What's wrong?!  Burglar!?  I'll eat them!" Derek mumbled out in a sleep-drunken slur, still in a half-dazed sleep, focusing his attention on Claudia and Stiles.  He stepped forward, concern and worry covering his blood-stained face.

Exchanging glances, both Claudia and Stiles let loose a loud laugh, only to further confuse Derek's sleep-addled brain further.

"What?!" Derek growled, wiping the blood from his nose.

Claudia just shook her head, patted both boys on the shoulders, and wiped away a tear from the laughter.  "Oh nothing, everything's fine sweetie," she said, as she passed by the boys.  "I'm going to bed.  Why don't you two do the same?  I'll see you both in the morning.  Oh, and Stiles...  Looks like I have nothing to worry about, after all, with that big puppy of yours," Claudia explained, making her way up the staircase and into her bedroom.  

Derek glanced to Stiles.  "Uh...  Did I miss something?" he asked.

Laughing to himself, Stiles shook his head, and wrapped his arm around Derek's waist.  "Not much.  Come on, let's go to bed.  I feel like...  Like I can sleep now, maybe...  A little," he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for the epilouge, and the finale! We'll be seeing how Stiles' life turned out, as we time skip to them as adults!


	10. Chapter 10

**_-Epilogue:  Many Years Later-_ **

 

"Daddy?"

Stiles' eyes fluttered open.  At first, he was greeted with the white curtains of his and Derek's bedroom dancing in the gentle autumn breeze, as dawn peeked over the horizon.  The small home on the Hale property was a bright, open spaced one story building, overlooking the lake on the property.  Stiles' nose perked up at the scent of the water, and the fresh winds blowing through the window.

Then, he was met face-to-face with a young boy's face.  A pale complexion, with an average build, sleek black (bed) hair, and a pair of bright red eyes.  In his arms, a soft brown plush bunny rabbit ("Mr. Dinglehopper) was clutched tightly to his chest.  Much like the plush rabbit, the child's sleepy gaze looked a thousand miles away.  

"Up!  Up!" the boy demanded annoyingly, holding an arm out to Stiles and Derek's king-sized bed.

Without saying anything, Stiles pulled his four-year-old son up from the hardwood floor, and into his arms.  He snuggled the both of them under the warm blankets, and Raye settled up against his father as he sat up against the headboard.  "Good morning, Raye," he whispered.  Stiles pecked a gentle kiss on Raye's forehead, and in no time at all, his little Alpha was out like a rock.

While Raye snored, hanging onto Stiles like a sloth, Stiles looked across the room and at the bathroom door.  Derek walked out, in a pair of ratty pajamas long since past their prime, as the sounds of a toilet flushing echoed in the restroom.  Stiles' mate, after 10 years, hadn't changed all that much.  Perhaps a little big bigger around the waistline, with a little more muscle after his last growth spurts in college.  Though his scruff had vanished off the face of the earth, alongside his taste in leather.  Being the Regional Alpha tended to bring out the professionalism in anyone, even Derek Hale.

Not that Stiles was without changes himself.  After getting his doctorate in Psychology, Stiles found himself teaching at Signal College, stuck inside musty classrooms, and tanning only in fluorescent lighting during his office hours, he somehow managed to get even paler than before.  He'd "sold out", and could see his closet on the other side of the room with next week's sweater vests and khaki pants hanging up, freshly ironed and looking like a coffee shop hipster's wet dream.

Laying down on Stiles' opposite side, Derek laid down next to his son and husband, smiling.

"Sleepwalked to his Daddy again, huh?  I thought we'd agreed to let him sleep in his big boy bed?" Derek asked.

Stiles nodded, gently wiping the child's long bangs out of his hair.  "It's morning, and he slept all night on his own!  Papa, you leave him alone," he whispered playfully.

"Yeah...  Le'mealone papa..." Raye grumbled under his breath, frowning loudly.

Rolling his eyes, Derek leaned over and pressed a kiss on Raye's forehead, smirking.  "No ganging up on Papa, it's not nice," he said playfully.  

Fussing as he buried himself into Stiles' side, Raye mumbled incoherently.

Stiles and Derek both chuckled, each ruffling Raye's hair playfully.  

Derek reached over, picking up the remote control from their side table.  He flipped on their wall-mounted television set, to the morning news.  With it being Saturday, the family of three were more than welcome to sleep in as late as they wanted.

 

_"...with next month's integration of Beacon Hills Elementary, Middle School, and High School, a select number of Supernatural members of the Beacon Hills Community will be attending the, until recently, all human school.  Dr. Lydia Martin, head of the project alongside Mr. Bobby Finstock, has issued a profound thanks to the parents, teachers, and School Board Members for allowing this project to begin.  We spoke with Dr. Martin earlier this morning, on the upcoming transition..."_

 

"Look Raye, it's Auntie Lyn!" Stiles said, gently tickling Raye's side.

The child giggled, peeking open an eye, and watching as Lydia came up on screen.  His tiny eyes popped open, beaming as he watched the television screen come to life.

 

_"The integration of the Supernatural and Human children is long overdue.  At the end of the day, every child, regardless of their birth status, is due the right to the educational and social structures as anyone else.  My family and I still remember the pain of being rejected a normal college education, or a normal life after the Supernatural curtain lifted.  My dear friend and co-chair on this project, Dr. Stiles Hale, who grew up with human parents, especially knows the feeling of not being able to go to school with the friends and family he grew up around.  It's thanks to him and his experiences that we were able to start the communication about this project, and bring up the isolation that many Supernatural children feel on a very real level.  Though we couldn't have made this happen without the support of Senator Laura Hale, or the Beacon Hills School Board.  It's thanks to individuals such as themselves that we're able to make these dreams for our children, my own son Jason Argent included, come true." Lydia said on the television interview.  Her short bob of a haircut and sleek black suit and skirt added professionalism to her radiance, without much of a change anywhere else in her features._

  
  


"Hi Auntie Lyn!" Raye yawned sleepily, snuggling back into a half-sleep into Stiles' arms.

"You know...  Here in a year or two, if this project of yours and Lydia's goes well, we might actually have to start thinking about where Raye will go," Derek said, leaning on Stiles' shoulder as the rest of the interview went on.

Stiles chuckled, watching as Raye fell in and out of sleep in a daze, gently drooling on Stiles' shirt.  

"It's not really my project.  Lydia gives me way too much credit, I was just the sympathetic face and celebrity guest at a lot of the conferences.  To this day, I still get people who lose their minds over "the first werewolf raised by humans", and then I just had to go and get my doctorate at a normal human college after I begged long enough and paid out the ass in tuition.  There's a lot of people who think I'm something special..." Stiles said, shaking his head in disbelief.

Derek rolled his eyes.  "Sure, you're not special.  We'll ignore the the fact that you're a brilliant college professor, an after-school counselor for Beacon Academy, you help Isaac with the Supernatural Foster Program, you're head of the human/werewolf after school unification project, and the Omega father to the sweetest children in the world?  Sure, you're not special," he said colorfully.

Groaning, Stiles bopped his head on the back of the headboard.  "We're not having this conversation, Derek.  It's Saturday morning.  I was up until 1 in the morning grading the essay freshman papers from hell.  I want to snuggle until my babies start screaming for food, so can we drop it?" he asked.

"S'not a baby, Daddy," Raye griped, huffing into Stiles.

Derek and Stiles smiled, each rolling their eyes at their "big boy".  

"Sure.  I mean, the entire world knows how amazing you are, why should I bother," Derek said, pressing a kiss on his husband's lips.  Stiles groaned.  "Though we've got the twins' birthday party tomorrow.  We should probably go out and buy their presents.  Carter wants that terrible game that kids these days claim is fun, and Cecil wants a 30 page printout of books from Barnes and Noble," he said, flipping through the channels on the TV, and stopping on a football review show.

"Can you believe how old they've gotten?!..." Stiles said, shaking his head.  "How are they that old already!?  Seems like just yesterday they were a year old, and their dads were all scared to drop them, and never let anyone else hold them!  Or when they were 6 and Jackson cried like a baby every night over skype when he had to go on a business trip out of state for continuing education!  Or when they were 9, and Carter broke his arm, and Scott tried to murder the poor kid's bike!  Where has the years gone?!" he said, with a warm chuckle as he banged his head on the headboard behind them.

Derek snorted.  "Poor bike...  I had to go out and buy Carter another one, since Mr. Bike looked more like Mr. Scrap Metal," he replied.

The two laughed in unison, as a gentle knock came to their bedroom door.

"Daddy?  Papa?  Are you awake?" a small girl's voice voice called out.  

Turning to the door, Stiles watched his 5 year-old daughter, Nora Hale, peek her head into their bedroom.  Her dark brown hair and tanned skin from the love of the outdoors stood out above all, matching her warm golden eyes.  She held her stuffed tiger plushie tightly against her bright pink pajamas.  

Derek smiled.  "Come on in, Princess," he said, patting the middle of the wide bed.

Beaming, Nora ran and jumped into bed, screaming gleefully the whole while.  She landed next to Derek, who immediately scooped her up and growled playfully.  

"What's my pretty princess doing up so early?!" Derek asked, throwing and catching her high up into the air, earning loud squeals of joy from his daughter.

Raye cocked an eye open, huffing as he held onto Stiles tighter.  "Daddy, papa and sissy are being loud, make 'em be quiet!" he spat, in his usual early morning grumpiness.  If it were an hour later, he'd want to be in on play-time as well, and Stiles just rolled his eyes.

Nora landed on her father's stomach, still giggling wildly as she hugged her plush toy.  "Can I go see Nanny and Poppy?  They're next door!  I can run there ALL BY MYSELF!" she announced proudly.  

Which wasn't a lie.  The Hale property had homes not that far apart, and Nora would always make rounds during the weekends.  Whether it was visiting Sarah Hale (Jordan and Laura's child, a few years older than Nora), Jason Argent (Lydia and Allison's child, just turning 9), or trying to hit up for cookies from Memaw Talia and Pepaw Alec's house.  Nora was a fearless girl, and would probably run all the way to town if Derek and Stiles allowed it.  (They would not be allowing it.)  Though her favorite place in the world was to visit Nanny and Poppy Stilinski.  As Derek and Stiles' first child, she had a close connection with the retired couple, since they watched her during the day while Stiles and Derek went and worked.

Chuckling, Derek shook his head, bopping Nora's nose.  "Princess, Nanny and Poppy are probably still sleeping.  It's waaaaaay too early in the morning!" he announced, pointing to the clock next to the bed.  "See?  It's not even seven o'clock yet," he explained.

With a pout, Nora folded her arms.  "How come Nanny and Poppy sleep in?  Memaw and Pepaw don't sleep in!" she announced, despairingly.

Stiles laughed quietly.  Honestly, neither one of his parents would mind at all if Nora came racing in, and woke them up.  Though as they continued to age, their "get up and go" seemed to wane with each day, and dealing with a rambunctious young werewolf like Nora and Raye generally left the retired couple exhausted by day's end.  Stiles could at least let his free babysitters have a weekend sleep-in.  "Because my mommy and daddy aren't werewolves, sweetie.  They're not as strong as you," he answered, honestly.

"Oh...  How come Nanny and Poppy aren't werewolves?" Nora asked.

Derek and Stiles shared a cautious glance.

"How come Nanny and Poppy aren't werewolves?" Nora asked, again.

Stiles tightened his hug on Raye, who'd opened up his eyes again, who was sniffing Stiles' secondhand anxiety.  This was not a pleasant topic of conversation, but one that had to be brought up eventually.  

"Well..." Stiles muttered, adding on a weak smile as Nora scrambled to lay down next to her baby brother.  Derek gave a supportive smile, nodding in Stiles' direction.  "When I was a baby werewolf, Nanny and Poppy adopted me.  They were human, and I was a werewolf," he explained, in the simplest way possible.

"What's adopted?" Nora asked.

Taking a deep breath, Stiles patted both of his children on the shoulders.  "Well...  It means that even though Nanny and Poppy didn't give birth to me, that they're my mommy and daddy.  They said that they wanted me to be their son, and so I became their son," he explained, again, in potentially an oversimplified manner.  

"Oh.  Okay!" Nora said, her mind already off on an entirely different tangent.  She looked to the TV, and pointed at the sports channel.  "Papa, can we watch cartoons?!  Pretty please!?" she begged.

"Pretty please?!" Raye chimed in, as he wiped away the last recesses of his sleepiness.  Within the next fifteen minutes, their four-year-old would be bouncing off the walls and active as he usually was.

Stiles chuckled.  "Pretty please, Papa?" he added playfully.

Growling, Derek put on faked meanness, picking up the remote control and handing it over to Stiles.  "All right, all right...  You turn on something, Daddy, and Papa will go get everyone some juice, some fruit for my lil' Alpha, and maybe some blueberry muffins that my little Princess loves best of all," he said.

Raye and Nora giggled in delight, as Derek made his way out of the bedroom and Stiles flipped to one of the many children's programs his kids loved.  As he felt Raye nest into his usual Saturday-morning cartoon spot, and Nora already babbling excitedly about her plans for the afternoon, Stiles felt a low hum of contentedness beat in his chest.  

Many years earlier, he'd been content to give all of this up.  He recalled with great ease how he'd wanted to give up, and not have his family, his job, his career, or his pack.  Stiles cringed in fear at how easily he could have lost all of this, if Derek, the Hales, his parents, and his pack hadn't been willing to fight for him.  Often, he wondered to himself what would have happened if he'd given up.  If he'd given into the pressures and despair at such a young age, or if he'd never been willing to fight for his right to have happiness, who knows where his heart would have led him.

Something so stupid as the circumstances of birth, status, race, body image, or "worthiness"?  Those ridiculous and unimportant things had no place in anyone's world, and had no place in determining happiness.  Society could suck it.  Such stupidity could have kept him from his children, his husband, and this family.  

So like hell if his kids, or if any kids for that matter, would EVER feel that way, if he could help it.  Hence the integration project, the doctorate in psychology, and all of his after-work activities.  Every child, teen, and adult deserved to feel loved and appreciated at some point in their life.  Maybe he wanted everyone to have a full moon run like he'd gone through with the Hales, or the bonding week with Derek.  A point in their life that they feel loved beyond compare.

Glancing down at his children, Stiles pulled them both closer, kissing each of them on the head.  "I love you both..." he said quietly.

Nora and Raye snuggled closer.  "Love you too, Daddy," they replied in an instant, still focusing on their cartoon program.

Stiles beamed, hugging them closer.  

 _"Thank you, English classroom door.  Thank you,"_ Stiles thought, chuckling to himself.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my story! Please feel free to leave honest feedback, and any feelings you have about the project! 
> 
> I also would love requests on what you'd like to see me write next!

**Author's Note:**

> A short little Sterek fic that I wanted to try out! I'd love your feedback and comments on this project, and I'm always up for suggestions on what you'd like to see happen!


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